


The Sorrows You Keep

by enigmaticblue



Series: A Sentinel and Guide in the SGC [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1, The Sentinel
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 00:46:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some scars weren't visible to the naked eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sorrows You Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Royal Wood song, “Tonight I’ll Be Your Guide.” (I couldn’t resist.) Written for the hc_bingo for my wild card square and the prompt “post traumatic stress disorder,” and the trope_bingo prompt “fake relationship.” For the record, I’m playing a bit fast and loose with the timeline of S5 of SG-1, but then we don’t always know how much time passes between episodes.

Jim leaned against the hood of the truck and tipped his head back to look at the rapidly darkening sky. There was a plane high overhead, and he knew that if he concentrated, he’d be able to make out the airline and flight number. If he focused a little more, he would see the satellite orbiting the earth just beyond that.

 

But he didn’t try, because Blair was still in the gas station bathroom, and his newly sharpened senses had a tendency to spiral out of control. He could harness them as long as Blair was nearby, but otherwise he was all too prone to spikes and zones.

 

Just like the old days, Jim thought with a bitter smile. Only worse.

 

The satellite phone rang inside the truck, and Jim hurried to answer it. The phone had been a requirement from the SGC when Jim had expressed his desire to drive from Cascade to Colorado Springs.

 

“I can’t protect you,” Colonel O’Neill had warned him.

 

“I understand that, sir,” Jim had replied. “But I need to be under the open sky for a while.” He hadn’t said that he needed this time with Blair, or that he needed to prove to himself that he wouldn’t panic without a bunch of soldiers watching over him. Jim knew that if he didn’t take that step, he would be far too tempted to take up Hammond’s offer of base quarters and never leave.

 

He wouldn’t let fear control him, if not for his own sake, then for Blair’s.

 

So, they had packed up the truck and turned the keys to the loft over to a manager who had been instructed to rent it out at the best possible price, and then they’d started driving, taking their time, heading south and east.

 

They still had a few days before they were due in Colorado Springs, and they’d planned on camping out in the Rockies for a couple of days.

 

Or, they _had_. He suspected the phone call was going to put paid to that plan.

 

“Ellison,” he growled.

 

“Where are you?” O’Neill barked.

 

Jim straightened out of reflex and glanced over at Blair, who had finally emerged from the gas station. “Just outside Casper, Wyoming,” he replied, knowing that O’Neill wouldn’t have called if it weren’t an emergency. “What happened?”

 

“Someone grabbed Carter,” O’Neill replied, and the words sent a jolt of anxiety through Jim. “We’re still narrowing down _who_ , but I thought you’d want to know, and we could use the assist.”

 

“We can be there in a few hours,” Jim said. “We’ll make best possible speed.”

 

“Thanks.” O’Neill’s tone was curt, and he cut the connection immediately.

 

Blair frowned as he approached, also sensing trouble. “What’s up, man?”

 

“O’Neill called—someone grabbed Carter. They want us there.”

 

Blair held up a hand. “Give me the keys. You can sleep while I drive.”

 

Since Jim had been driving the last few hours, he acquiesced. “Thanks.”

 

“No problem,” Blair said easily. “I’m wide awake.”

 

Jim tossed Blair the keys and climbed into the passenger seat of the truck, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window.

 

“You okay?” Blair asked.

 

Jim shrugged. “I’ll be better when we’ve got Sam back.”

 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Blair replied. “Sam’s pretty badass.”

 

Jim managed to smile. “Yeah, she is, isn’t she?”

 

“How are your senses?”

 

Blair had been asking him that regularly for the last couple of weeks, walking him through breathing exercises or the dials when Jim wasn’t doing so great. Right now, though, he had everything under control.

 

It helped that there hadn’t been any sensory surprises for the last few hours.

 

“Under control,” Jim replied. “This trip helped.” He didn’t add that just being with Blair helped; the depth of his current dependence scared him most days, and that was only when it didn’t depress the hell out of him.

 

“I’m glad.” Blair’s words were quietly emphatic. “You should sleep,” Blair said. “We’ll be there in a few hours.”

 

Jim had perfected the art of sleeping wherever and whenever in the Army, but that talent seemed to have deserted him along with his control. He supposed that it was ironic to have escaped one prison, only to be right back there every time he closed his eyes.

 

He opened his eyes after just a few minutes and stared out at the twilit sky, sensing Blair’s gaze on him.

 

“Jim?”

 

“No point in trying to sleep now,” Jim said, not looking at him. “We’ll be there soon enough.”

 

Blair cleared his throat. “So, uh, did I ever tell you about my completely disastrous date with Melanie?”

 

Listening to one of Blair’s stories held more appeal than his own morose thoughts, and Jim turned to look at him. “No, you didn’t. When was this?”

 

“Remember the week before I went on that trip with Naomi?”

 

Jim frowned. “Yeah, right after we wrapped up the Schaffer case. You went out one night, and came back walking funny. You wouldn’t tell me why.”

 

Blair smiled ruefully. “That’s because it was embarrassing as hell, man.”

 

With one eyebrow raised, Jim asked, “Then why am I just hearing about it now?”

 

“Because you look like you could use a bedtime story, and it will make you laugh,” Blair replied frankly. “So—”

 

And with that, he launched into the story, which involved a restaurant with terrible food and worse service, and a cat that had taken exception to Blair right from the start.

 

Jim never did hear the end of the tale; Blair’s voice surrounded him, telling him he was safe, and he drifted off to sleep somewhere between Casper and Cheyenne.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack was waiting for a call from Maybourne in his office when his phone rang. “Call for you from Major Ellison, sir,” the voice on the other end said. “Shall I patch him through?”

 

“Yeah, go ahead,” Jack replied wearily.

 

“Colonel O’Neill? We’re just outside Colorado Springs,” Ellison reported. “Where do you need us?”

 

“Just head straight for the base,” Jack responded. “We’re here, waiting for word from one of my informants.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Ellison said sharply.

 

Jack hadn’t been entirely certain about the decision to recruit Ellison and Sandburg, but he understood why Hammond had pushed for it, and why the President had pulled a few strings to make sure it happened. Ellison’s gifts were too impressive not to bring him on board, and no one wanted to risk him falling into enemy hands.

 

Plus, there was that pesky problem of control—no one wanted to risk the press getting wind of either his abilities or his story. If Ellison was working for the SGC, they stood a better chance of keeping all of that quiet.

 

And Sandburg—well, Jack had to admit the kid had stones, and he and Ellison were a package deal.

 

Jack called the gate guard and let him know that Major Ellison and Mr. Sandburg would be arriving shortly, and they were to be granted full clearance. Jack remembered belatedly that Ellison had said something about packing up their apartment, and he added, “Give the major any assistance he needs, Sergeant, including storing his vehicle.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Ellison and Sandburg were in the conference room an hour later, both in jeans and flannel, and Ellison offered a perfect salute. “Colonel O’Neill.”

 

“Major,” Jack replied evenly. “Sandburg. Have a seat, and I’ll fill you both in.”

 

“Do we need to be in uniform?” Sandburg asked uncertainly.

 

Jack shook his head. “If all goes according to plan, we’ll be launching a rescue mission, but we’ll be dressed as civilians.”

 

“What do we know, sir?” Ellison asks, and Jack heard the restrained anxiety in Ellison’s voice.

 

“I’ll let Daniel give you the details. He and Teal’c are sifting through the information we’ve got, and they could use your help. I’ve got an informant who’s working an inside angle. Once we know where Carter is, we’ll pull her out.”

 

Ellison cleared his throat. “Once we get a fix on her location, I can track her.”

 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know how?”

 

Sandburg grinned. “Jim’s amazing.”

 

Jack held up a hand. “That means I definitely don’t want to know.” Ellison’s abilities made Jack uncomfortable, but having a human bloodhound on hand would be useful. “But when we figure out where she’s being held, you’ll take point, Major. The sooner we find her, the happier I’ll be.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Ellison said smartly.

 

“You remember where Daniel’s lab is at,” Jack replied. “I’ll let you know as soon as I have more information.” And when it looked like Jim might salute again, Jack said, “Don’t bother. No one around here does.”

 

Ellison’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Yes, sir.”

 

Jack suspected that Ellison was a closet smartass, but he still didn’t have clear read on the man. Ellison had obviously been a good detective, and he’d been a good soldier—maybe too good, as far as his previous commander had been concerned—but he couldn’t have succeeded without a hefty dose of independence and a certain disregard for the chain of command.

 

Still, Jack understood. Ellison had been offered a lifeline—take the SGC’s offer and be protected, or risk getting taken again. And if Ellison was protected, Sandburg would be, too, and Jack respected that kind of loyalty. So, however freaky Ellison’s abilities might be, Jack would use him.

 

Once he was alone again, Jack let his guard down, putting his head in his hands. He’d never liked Maybourne—except when he almost did—and right now he was torn between shooting the little weasel and using him.

 

But with Carter’s life on the line, it was no choice at all, really.

 

~~~~~

 

Blair’s worry for Jim hadn’t let up since getting him back; it had just changed focus. Before, he’d wanted to make sure Jim was safe, but now, he wanted Jim to be happy.

 

Because Jim _wasn’t_ happy; that much was obvious.

 

He glanced at Jim, who was leaning against the wall next to Teal’c as Daniel ran down what they knew so far. For Blair, it was a little bit of déjà vu, trying to figure out where Sam might be held.

 

“Are these the same people who grabbed Jim?” Blair asked.

 

Daniel shook his head. “There’s no indication the two events are connected, but we can’t rule out the possibility. They might have used Maybourne to get the symbiote, but Conrad appears to have acted alone.”

 

“Wouldn’t be the first time a rich asshole thought he was above the law,” Jim commented sourly.

 

Daniel grimaced. “No, it wouldn’t. We still haven’t figured out what he wants with the symbiote, or Sam, though.”

 

“From what you said, he hasn’t been seen in six months,” Blair observed. “There’s probably a reason for that. Let’s see everything you’ve got on him.”

 

They were still digging through Conrad’s holdings and financials when O’Neill called in with the news that Conrad had a rare degenerative disorder. They met General Hammond and Dr. Fraiser in the conference room to put their information together.

 

“Just like old times,” Blair murmured softly on the way, knowing that only Jim would hear him.

 

Jim nodded, the hint of a smile on his face. “I guess they _can_ use a couple of detectives.”

 

“And a Sentinel, man,” Blair pointed out, keeping his voice down. “You remember her scent, right?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Jim admitted. “I could probably track anybody on SG-1.”

 

Blair filed that information away for later.

 

“And before you say it, yes, I’ll do your tests,” Jim muttered.

 

Blair frowned. That definitely wasn’t like Jim. “Seriously?”

 

Jim shrugged but didn’t reply as they took their seats around the conference room table.

 

Blair _had_ wanted to run Jim through some additional tests, but there was no way he was going to push it after what Jim had endured.  He hadn’t thought Jim would bring it up on his own.

 

He kept a careful eye on Jim during the meeting, especially when hospitals were brought up. Jim might have been carved from stone for all the emotion he showed, though.

 

“Wait,” Daniel said, “Saint-something.”

 

“Saint Christina’s,” Jim inserted quietly. “It was on the list of holdings.”

 

Daniel nodded, finding the right piece of paper in the stack. “That’s it. It’s a hospital in the suburbs of Seattle. It was shut down, and Conrad bought it.”

 

“I’ll bet we can guess why,” Blair said.

 

Hammond nodded. “I’ll contact the local authorities, and you can meet Colonel O’Neill there. A jet will be fueled and ready to go by the time you get to the airport.”

 

“Just to be clear,” Blair said as they left the conference room. “No uniforms?”

 

“Not for something like this,” Daniel confirmed. “You guys have weapons, right?”

 

“We turned in our guns with our badges,” Jim replied. “Although I’ve still got my backup.”

 

“Same,” Blair confirmed.

 

“We’ll stop by the armory on our way out,” Daniel replied.

 

“We’ll need to bring a spare for Sam,” Jim said quietly. “She’s going to want a weapon in her hands.”

 

Daniel gave Jim a sharp look. “Yeah, I guess you’d know. We’ll do that.”

 

“You going to be okay with this?” Blair asked softly as they waited for Daniel and Teal’c to change out of their uniforms and into civilian clothes. “We haven’t had many opportunities to work on your senses, and your control is a little shaky.”

 

“As long as you stay close, I’ll be fine.”

 

Blair could see the tension in Jim’s shoulders and the ticking muscle in his jaw, and he knew better than to push. Jim seemed to be on edge all the time lately, not that Blair blamed him.

 

In fact, he’d been waiting for an explosion of some sort, but there had been nothing. Jim had kept his emotions almost completely under control—which just meant that Jim was going to blow up eventually, although hopefully _not_ at Blair.

 

The jet was, indeed, fueled and ready when they got to the airport. Blair could get used to not having to go through airport security, and the jet didn’t have the vibrations and noise that a commercial airplane had, which meant it was easier on Jim.

 

Jim cleared his throat once they’d reached cruising altitude. “So, let me get this straight. This guy wants one of these things implanted in him to save his life.”

 

“That seems to be the plan,” Daniel confirmed.

 

“But why?” Jim asked bluntly. “Why would he give up control of his body like that?”

 

“Fear of death drives many to do terrible things,” Teal’c said. “But you already know this, Major Ellison.”

 

“How are we going to know if he’s been implanted?” Blair asked.

 

“Glowing eyes are usually a dead giveaway,” Daniel replied. “And the voice changes. Trust me, you’ll know it if you see it.”

 

“And if his eyes don’t glow, and his voice sounds normal?” Jim asked with a lifted eyebrow.

 

Daniel shrugged. “That’s what a zat is for.”

 

“Conrad was also the one to kidnap Major Carter,” Teal’c pointed out.

 

“Got it,” Blair said. “Shooting him is not a hardship.”

 

Daniel smiled. “Not even a little bit.”

 

When they landed in Seattle, they headed straight for the abandoned hospital. O’Neill was already waiting outside with a local SWAT team, his expression tense, and his eyes focused on the building.

 

“Ellison!”

 

Jim stiffened, and then forced a smile as one of the SWAT guys walked up to him. “Zimmern! Good to see you.”

 

“What are you doing with these lugs? I hadn’t heard you’d left Cascade,” Zimmern replied.

 

Jim shrugged. “I got a chance to re-up, and couldn’t pass on the opportunity.”

 

“Friend of yours in there?” Zimmern asked.

 

“Yeah, a good one,” Jim said. “So, you guys okay with us calling the shots?”

 

Zimmern nodded. “It’s your show, Jim.”

 

“Who was that?” Blair asked in an undertone.

 

“Cop I met at a conference,” Jim replied. “We had a couple of beers together. Nice guy.”

 

“How many cops do you know?” O’Neill asked incredulously.

 

“In Washington?” Jim asked. “Quite a few.”

 

O’Neill shrugged. “Well, I suppose that smoothed over a few ruffled feathers. Next time we have to work with the local cops, I’ll let you handle them.” He raised his voice. “All right, cover the exits and wait for my signal. And somebody watch that guy,” O’Neill ordered, pointing at a shorter, bearded man Blair didn’t recognize.

 

“Come on, Jack,” the man said. “This is my fault. Let me try and help fix it.”

 

O’Neill rolled his eyes. “Fine, grab a vest. You’re with me. Ellison, Sandburg, you’re with Daniel and Teal’c on the front entrance.” He looked at Jim. “You’re sure you can find her?”

 

Jim already wore the intent expression he got when using his senses to the max, and he put a hand on Blair’s shoulder. “I can already hear her, sir.”

 

“Go,” O’Neill said, and signaled the SWAT team.

 

“How are we doing this?” Blair asked.

 

Daniel shrugged. “We go in, pretend we need a doctor, and zat them.”

 

“Teal’c and I should probably hang back,” Jim said.

 

Blair shot him a concerned look. “Are you sure?”

 

“I will be with him, Blair Sandburg,” Teal’c replied. “You need not fear.”

 

Jim looked a little disgruntled, but he nodded. “Go on.” He cocked his head to the side. “We need to move fast.”

 

Blair wanted to protest, but he could read the urgency in Jim’s eyes. Whatever Jim was hearing, it meant Sam was in danger. “Okay,” he said. “So, who’s going to be the injured one, Daniel? You or me?”

 

~~~~~

 

Sam tried to push back her panic, but she was losing the battle. Now that she knew who was responsible for her kidnapping and imprisonment, there was no way they were going to let her leave alive.

 

O’Neill—and the rest of the SGC—would be looking for her, but Conrad was a wealthy man who would have hidden his tracks. He’d obviously been planning this for a while, and Sam wasn’t going to be able to saw through the handcuffs with a scalpel, even if she _could_ get her hands on one again.

 

The two doctors entered the room, and Sam frowned. Her gut was telling her that her time was running out. “What are you doing?” she demanded as one of them grabbed her. “Hey! Stop it!”

 

“I’d do what the lady says.”

 

Jim Ellison was the last person Sam had expected to see bursting through the door, with Blair right behind him, but she was incredibly glad to see them both.

 

Both doctors froze, but they didn’t immediately release her.

 

“I haven’t shot anybody for a while,” Jim said conversationally. “So, please, give me an excuse.”

 

The doctors backed off, and the one with the syringe dropped it.

 

“Sandburg?” Jim called.

 

“Got ‘em,” Blair confirmed. “I’ll call it in.”

 

“Sam? You okay?” Jim asked.

 

Sam nodded. “They’ve got the keys to the cuffs.”

 

Blair searched them roughly and tossed the keys to Jim, who freed Sam and tossed the cuffs to Blair, and Sam had the immense satisfaction of seeing them used on the doctor who had been so enthusiastic about dissecting her.

 

“Where did you guys come from?” Sam asked, rubbing her wrists and scrambling off the gurney as Blair informed Daniel and O’Neill that they’d found Sam.

 

Jim checked her wrists with gentle, elegant fingers before handing her his weapon. “O’Neill called us while we were driving to Colorado Springs. He thought we might be able to help.”

 

“You’ve got good timing,” Sam said. “Although I’m sorry you had to cut your vacation short.”

 

Jim shrugged and pulled the gun from his ankle holster. “It was for a good cause.”

 

“The others?”

 

“Searching for Conrad,” Jim replied. He cocked his head to the side. “They implanted the symbiote. Teal’c and Daniel went after him.”

 

Jim’s expression was remote, and Sam frowned, sensing that something wasn’t right.

 

“Jim!” Blair said sharply. “Come on, man.”

 

Jim shook himself. “Sorry. We’ve got to move. Conrad is on the loose, and he’s got a passenger.”

 

Sam knew better than to ask. “Where are they?”

 

“Basement level,” Jim replied.

 

“Dial it back, man,” Blair advised. “You don’t want to zone now.”

 

Jim nodded, his lips tightly compressed. “Sam? You up for this?”

 

“More than,” she promised. “I’m in the mood to shoot people myself.”

 

She definitely felt better with a weapon in her hand, and it didn’t hurt to have both Jim and Blair there, both of them looking every inch the cop. Her team was in the building, backing them up. She felt safe for the first time since getting snatched in the parking lot.

 

Even Sam could hear the gunshots as they took the stairs down to the basement, and Jim redoubled his pace.

 

Sam ran after him, hearing Blair’s footsteps behind her, and she let out a breath when she spotted a body on the floor and recognized O’Neill.

 

“He’s alive,” Jim called before they’d even reached him.

 

“Who shot you, sir?” Sam asked, kneeling next to O’Neill.

 

O’Neill groaned as she helped him roll over. “I don’t know. The bastard shot me from behind.”

 

“I could probably track them,” Jim offered, crouching down next to O’Neill.

 

O’Neill waved him off. “They’re gone, Ellison. There’s no reason for anybody else to get shot today.”

 

“I don’t plan on getting shot,” Jim countered. “But you’re the boss.”

 

“Damn right I am,” O’Neill grumbled.

 

Blair was calling for the medics, and Sam stayed next to O’Neill, wishing she had her tac vest with its first aid supplies. Hell, she wished she were wearing something more than scrubs.

 

“You okay?” O’Neill asked in a low voice.

 

Sam shrugged. “Jim and Blair showed up in the nick of time.”

 

“I knew there was a reason we hired a Sentinel,” O’Neill said, smirking at Jim, who didn’t react. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

 

Sam managed a smile for him. “Yeah, I think you’re the one who’s been shot, sir.”

 

“We’ll get you checked out,” O’Neill said, grimacing in pain.

 

“You’re the one who needs a doctor, Colonel,” Sam countered.

 

“I think you _both_ need a doctor,” Blair announced. “Jim? Daniel and Teal’c are meeting us upstairs.”

 

“I’ve got the colonel,” Jim confirmed, hauling O’Neill to his feet.

 

Paramedics swarmed them as soon as they emerged from the basement, and Jim approached one of the SWAT guys. Blair stuck close to Sam’s side, although he tracked Jim with his eyes.

 

“Who is that?” Sam asked as Jim shook hands with one of the black-clad men.

 

“Somebody from a former life,” Blair said quietly. “And no one I know.”

 

“You’re worried about him,” Sam observed.

 

Blair shrugged. “Story of my life.”

 

And then the paramedics were upon them, insisting on taking Sam’s vitals. She sat in the back of the ambulance and waited for them to give her the all clear, wanting nothing more than to go _home_. Sam wanted a shower and her own clothes; she wanted to forget the sense of violation she’d felt upon waking up to find herself in hospital scrubs, without knowing what they might have done while she was unconscious.

 

Sam wanted to remember that she was a major in the United States Air Force, who had faced death plenty of times in the past. This situation had been no different.

 

And if she kept telling herself that, she might eventually believe it.

 

“Hey.”

 

She glanced up to see Jim standing in front of her, sympathy in his eyes. “Hey,” she replied. “Have I thanked you yet?”

 

“I think you mentioned it.” He leaned against the ambulance next to her. “Blair’s probably going to bust a gut if he hears me say this, but—if you want to talk about it, you can come find me.”

 

Sam blinked, realizing that if anyone understood what she’s just been through, it would be Jim, and that knowledge brought her close to losing her composure.

 

Jim sat down next to her on the edge of the bus, so that their shoulders brushed. “Do you want me to leave?”

 

“No,” Sam said. “No, stay.”

 

“Yeah, sure. As long as you want,” Jim replied, putting a hand over hers where it rested on the ledge.

 

She could see Daniel and Teal’c talking with O’Neill as they loaded him into one of the ambulances, and Blair hovered nearby, keeping a close eye on Jim. She was surrounded, in the best possible way, and she let out a breath in relief.

 

Jim squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.

 

~~~~~

 

Jim woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed and gasping for air. The darkness of the room confused him, and for a moment, he thought he was blind again, stuck in that cell.

 

He fumbled for the lamp on the bedside table, and let out a breath of relief as the light clicked on, even the dim light causing him to blink.

 

Slowly, cautiously, he extended his senses, wanting to hear the reassuring beat of Blair’s heart, but then he pulled back, not wanting to risk zoning. Jim did his best to talk himself out of checking on Blair, but he wasn’t going to get back to sleep tonight, so he dressed and went next door.

 

Blair had been leaving his door unlocked, so Jim didn’t have any trouble opening the door to poke his head inside, seeing Blair sleeping peacefully. From here, Jim could hear Blair’s heartbeat, strong and steady, without risking a zone.

 

Blair snorted, and opened his eyes halfway. “Jim?”

 

“Just doing my rounds,” Jim said. “Go back to sleep.”

 

“You, too,” Blair mumbled, already sliding back into sleep.

 

Jim headed for the gym, stepping onto the treadmill and cranking up the speed, hoping that a run would clear his head.

 

An hour later, Jim was soaked through with sweat, exhausted, and yet still keyed up.

 

“Major Ellison, you are awake early.”

 

Teal’c’s voice surprised Jim, but he managed to control his startle reflex. “Teal’c.”

 

“Would you join me for kel’no’reem?” Teal’c asked.

 

Jim frowned. “I’m not sure what that is, to be honest.”

 

“It is a form of meditation that Jaffa undertake instead of sleep,” Teal’c replied. “If you cannot sleep, perhaps it will allow you some rest.”

 

If Blair had suggested meditation, Jim probably would have put him off, but coming from Teal’c, it was harder to say no. There was something restful about being with Teal’c, and it was still early enough that the rest of the base was mostly still asleep.

 

“I’ll give it a try,” Jim replied. “What should I do?”

 

“Let us go to my quarters,” Teal’c suggested. “It will be more comfortable.”

 

Jim shrugged and followed him, grateful that they’d be away from prying eyes, and feeling a little better in Teal’c’s steady presence.

 

He was a little surprised to emerge an hour later feeling more centered, the scent of beeswax mixing with his own sweat. He ran into Sam on the way back to his quarters.

 

“Hey,” she said, and the dark circles under her eyes suggested that she’d had a few restless nights of her own. “Were you with Teal’c?”

 

“He was teaching me a few meditation techniques,” Jim replied. “Don’t tell Blair.”

 

She laughed. “Yeah, that’s not really my thing.”

 

Jim shrugged. “I found it strangely relaxing this morning.”

 

Sam grimaced sympathetically. “You want to grab dinner this week?”

 

“Sure, I’ll let you know when I’m free,” Jim offered. “I think we’re going to be looking for a place to live.”

 

“Good luck with that,” Sam replied. “Let me know if you need any help.”

 

Jim hesitated. “We could grab lunch if you’re available.”

 

Sam smiled. “It’s a date.”

 

And Jim felt a little better yet.

 

~~~~~

 

Jim lounged on Blair’s bed in his base quarters, flipping through the ads for houses. “You going to look for a car, Chief?”

 

Blair shrugged, leaning back in the chair, his bare feet propped on the bed next to Jim. “Eventually. I don’t think I’ll need a vehicle right away.”

 

“We’ve got the truck,” Jim agreed absently. “Although we need to unload it. If we can’t find a place soon, maybe we could rent a storage space.”

 

“Maybe,” Blair agreed. “Although I’m thinking finding our own place is a better bet.”

 

Jim grunted.

 

“We _are_ going to find our own place, right?” Blair pressed. “Staying on base is fine for right now, but we can’t live here forever.” When Jim didn’t respond right away, Blair prompted, “Jim?”

 

“I’m looking right now,” Jim protested, rustling the newspaper for emphasis.

 

“I still think we should look for something on the edge of town,” Blair said. “You’ll have an easier time with your senses that way.”

 

“This one?” Jim asked, tapping his finger on one of the ads.

 

Blair moved to sit next to Jim, feeling the heat from Jim’s body, inexplicably comforted by Jim’s proximity. He’d read enough classified ads for apartments that he easily translated the abbreviations. “Four bedrooms, two and a half baths, split level, with a two car garage.” He frowned when he saw the price. “That seems a little steep.”

 

“It’s about par for the course around here,” Jim replied. “And it’s a large lot.”

 

Blair nodded. “We should go look tomorrow after our orientation course.” He shot Jim a sideways look. “Unless you have a date with Sam.”

 

“That’s the day after tomorrow,” Jim said placidly. “And even if it _was_ tomorrow, I could reschedule. She’d understand.”

 

“Yeah, she probably would at that,” Blair replied. “How is she?”

 

Jim shrugged. “She’s tough. Tougher than me, probably.”

 

Blair snorted. “You’re one of the toughest people I know, Jim.”

 

He shook his head, but didn’t reply.

 

“You okay with this?” Blair asked, tapping the newspaper.

 

Jim shrugged. “You’re right. We need to find a place to live.”

 

“But Sam getting grabbed reminded you that we’re not safe except on base,” Blair supplied.

 

Jim kept his eyes on the newspaper, circling another ad. “I’ve never been safe—not in the Army, not as a cop, and not now. So we have a few more enemies. So what?”

 

“So what?” Blair asked incredulously. “Jim, you’ve come into my quarters the last four nights running to make sure I’m here and in one piece.”

 

Jim wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Do you mind?”

 

Blair sighed. “No, I don’t mind, but I wish you’d tell me what’s bugging you.”

 

“Dreams,” Jim explained shortly. “Nightmares, really.”

 

“Not surprising,” Blair said neutrally. “And Sam?”

 

“We’ve talked a couple times,” Jim replied.

 

Blair studied Jim’s downcast expression, and wondered if Jim wouldn’t talk to him because he didn’t think Blair would understand. That hurt, since Blair had suffered in Jim’s absence, even if he hadn’t been hurt as bad as Jim.

 

“Jim—” He stopped, unwilling to give voice to his protest, because it would just sound selfish.

 

Jim cleared his throat. “I haven’t told her anything I haven’t told you.”

 

Blair shook his head. “You can do whatever you want. You can _say_ whatever you want. I just want you to be okay.”

 

“I’m okay,” Jim protested. “And I’ll be better when we’ve got our own space again. You’re right about that.”

 

“You still sure about buying a house?” Blair asked. “I could always just keep paying you rent.”

 

“I meant what I said, Chief,” Jim replied. “I want both our names on the mortgage.”

 

“Yeah, but if—”

 

Jim cut him off. “And if you find somebody, are you going to abandon me?”

 

“No!” Blair said without thinking. “Of course not!”

 

“So?” Jim countered. “Trust me on this one. I know what I want.”

 

Blair figured that if Jim changed his mind, they could work something out down the road. “Did you find out anything more about the orientation course?” Blair asked, changing the subject.

 

Jim went back to circling classifieds. “I just know that we’re not being put through the full course,” he replied.

 

“What’s the full course?” Blair asked.

 

Jim shrugged. “It’s the one for young officers fresh out of the Academy who are _trying_ to get a spot with the SGC. Since we’ve already signed the contracts, and we’ve got experience, it’s mostly a way of making sure we don’t get ourselves or anyone else killed while we’re at it.”

 

Blair let out a laugh. “I never thought I’d be going back to school, man.”

 

Jim gave him a sharp look. “How close are you to finishing your dissertation?”

 

“Close,” Blair confirmed. “Now that I know it’s going to be classified, I don’t have to worry about hiding your identity, and I can be a little more explicit about my findings.” He hesitated, and then asked, “Do you still want to read it before I submit it?”

 

“No,” Jim said shortly. “I don’t.”

 

“Are you okay with me including—what happened?” Blair wasn’t more specific than that, although neither of them had come up with a good way to refer to what amounted to Jim’s kidnapping and torture. Jim avoided the subject altogether, and Blair half-expected Jim to someday announce that he’d repressed the whole thing and only had a vague recollection of what had happened.

 

Hell, maybe Jim was already on his way to repressing it. Blair didn’t know, because Jim wouldn’t _talk_ to him.

 

Jim sighed. “Look, Sandburg, it happened, and whatever they did to me changed me. You might as well put it in there.”

 

“You don’t mind?” Blair pressed.

 

“What I _mind_ is feeling like I’m going to lose control every _fucking_ second of every _fucking_ day,” Jim snarled, pushing himself off the bed in one violent move that startled Blair. He paced back and forth across the room, his movements reminding Blair of his animal spirit.

 

Blair sat back, saying nothing, knowing there wasn’t anything he _could_ say. Jim wasn’t really angry with him, and he’d been waiting for Jim to lash out, because that was how Jim dealt with things.

 

Jim stopped, his hands clenching and unclenching, clearly trying to bring his temper under control.

 

“You know,” Blair said mildly. “If you want to be pissed off, I can handle it, and you have every right.”

 

Jim shook his head. “I don’t have any right to be angry at you.”

 

“ _Are_ you angry at me?”

 

Jim rubbed his eyes. “No. You know I’m not. You got me out.”

 

“And if I hadn’t gone on vacation with Naomi,” Blair began.

 

Jim cut him off with a brief, chopping gesture. “They would have grabbed both of us, or they would have grabbed me and come back for you later. This isn’t about you, Chief.”

 

“Then tell me what it’s about,” Blair invited, keeping his tone even. “You need to talk about this with somebody, Jim. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s Sam, but you can’t keep it locked inside forever.”

 

For a second, Blair was certain that Jim would try to put his fist through the wall—which would be really bad, since the walls were concrete.

 

“Sam and I haven’t talked about it,” Jim admitted. “She’s not ready, and she’s got baggage of her own to deal with. She doesn’t need to deal with my crap, too.”

 

Blair didn’t argue, although he suspected that Sam would jump at the chance to be strong for Jim. “Okay, so talk to me,” he said reasonably. “I’m your guide, remember?”

 

“Fine,” Jim snapped, his temper clearly at the breaking point. “My control is worse than it was when I first met you. Deep breathing doesn’t work. The _dials_ don’t work half the time.”

 

“What makes it better?” Blair asked quietly.

 

Jim shook his head, turning his back on Blair.

 

“Jim? Come on, big guy. I haven’t had to bring you out of a zone more than a couple of times, and you get your spikes under control pretty quickly.”

 

“Because _you’re_ with me!” Jim shouted.

 

There was a knock on the door, and someone called out, “Is everything okay?”

 

Jim flushed a dull red, and Blair sighed. He doubted he’d get anything more out of Jim tonight after this interruption. He waved Jim back and opened the door just enough to see the concerned expression of a young airman.

 

“Sorry, man,” Blair said. “We’re just having a spirited discussion. Everybody’s fine.”

 

“Are you sure?” the young man asked uncertainly.

 

Jim looked like he was about ready to come unglued when Blair glanced at him, and Blair sighed. “Seriously, I’m great. We were talking about politics.”

 

“Oh, okay,” the kid looked relieved at that. “My dad and my uncles get that way sometimes, too, sir.”

 

Blair heard the sound of choked laughter from behind him, probably because Jim got a kick out of hearing someone compare Blair to anybody’s father. Blair decided he didn’t mind anybody thinking he was old if it made Jim laugh. “Thanks for checking with us, airman. Have a good evening.”

 

“You too, sir.”

 

Jim was still trying to stifle his chuckles when Blair closed the door. “Laugh it up, Jim,” Blair said sourly. “It won’t be too long before someone starts comparing you to their grandpa.”

 

Jim sobered. “We really do need our own place, huh?”

 

“Definitely.” Blair sat back down on the bed. “I don’t suppose we’re going to get back to that conversation.”

 

Jim shrugged. “I’m not sure here is the right place for it.”

 

“You going to yell again?”

 

“Maybe,” Jim allowed, sitting down next to Blair on the bed. “Sorry about that.”

 

“You weren’t yelling at me,” Blair replied. “You were just yelling at the circumstances.”

 

“I guess you could put it that way.”

 

Blair leaned against Jim, relieved when Jim rested his forehead against the top of Blair’s head.

 

“Chief, I don’t know if I can do this,” Jim said quietly.

 

Blair closed his eyes, feeling a quiet wave of despair. “Jim, man, it’s only been a few weeks since we got you back. If you really can’t do it, we’ll take off. Hell, we’ll go to Peru and live with the Chopec if that’s what it takes, but it’s a little early to be giving up.”

 

“Okay,” Jim replied, taking a deep breath before pulling back. “I should go to bed.”

 

Blair nodded, searching Jim’s face. “If you need me, you know where I am.”

 

Jim touched his cheek. “Sure I do.”

 

Blair watched him go and stared at the classifieds lying on the floor with the red circles around the places Jim had thought were possibilities.

 

Maybe once they had their own place again, where Jim could exert a little more control over his surroundings, he’d start feeling more settled. They’d get a really good security system, and good locks, and maybe a huge guard dog.

 

And a white noise generator, and blackout curtains, and a few other things to make the life of a modern sentinel a little more bearable.

 

Blair flopped back on the bed and thought about what Jim had said, knowing that even those measures probably wouldn’t be enough. More than anything else, Jim didn’t want to be dependent on anybody, and right now, he needed Blair more than he ever had. When they’d first found Jim, he’d been too relieved to protest, but it didn’t sit right with him now.

 

Which meant that Blair could probably look forward to more angry outbursts in the future.

 

Just great.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack stood in front of the classroom, surveying his victims, which included Ellison and Sandburg, who sat next to each other. They were leaning in close and whispering back and forth when Jack entered, although they broke apart quickly. Sandburg shoved a newspaper under his seat.

 

In addition to those two, there were four others, all of them officers from either the Air Force or Marines, who were now joining the SGC.

 

“Great, you’re all here,” Jack said without enthusiasm. “Carter is going to be in later today to walk you through basics of wormholes and the DHDs. If you want more lessons on how they work or how to make repairs, you can ask her. Nearly every team has a geek, so it’s not strictly necessary, but knowledge is not a bad thing to have, gentlemen—and lady,” he added, glancing at Captain Li.

 

There were a few smiles at that, and Jack continued. “The biggest thing you need to get through your heads right now is that a lot of what you encounter out there is going to try to kill you.”

 

There were a few chuckles at that, although not from Ellison or Sandburg, who had their eyes on Jack, looking deadly serious.

 

“Don’t think I’m kidding,” Jack warned. “The Goa’uld and the Jaffa will be trying to kill you 90% of the time. Unfortunately, there are friendly Jaffa, and there are Tok’ra, who look a lot like Goa’uld but aren’t. I’m going to run over the differences and pose some scenarios, and you’re going to tell me what you’d do.”

 

Daniel would explain the difference between all the Goa’uld system lords and how to recognize their marks tomorrow, but right now, Jack went over some of the mission reports, briefly listing their tactical errors and victories. He’d given a lot of these presentations over the years, and he knew when people were paying attention. The other officers were mostly attentive, but Ellison and Sandburg were focused on him the entire time.

 

Jack was honestly beginning to think that they should start looking at police officers for SGC candidates. Maybe Sandburg and Ellison were unique, but they were at least paying attention to what he said through the whole spiel.

 

“All right, let’s start going over scenarios,” Jack said, startling at least one officer who had drifted off. “You and your team walk into a hostage situation. You know that two people have Goa’ulds, but one of them claims to be a Tok’ra. What do you do?”

 

When there was no immediate response, Jack said, “Ellison? What’s your plan?”

 

“Zat everybody, sort things out later,” Ellison said readily.

 

There was a smirk playing around Ellison’s mouth, and Sandburg was grinning outright, but Jack couldn’t fault the answer.

 

Still, he wasn’t going to let on to that. “Is that your answer to everything, Ellison?”

 

“It’s better than shooting to kill,” Ellison replies. “When you’ve got a non-lethal means to take out the enemy, why risk them shooting you first?”

 

Ellison’s response wasn’t much different from what other Rangers would have said, and Jack had known a few. Guys who worked Special Ops weren’t indiscriminate killers, but if there were a non-lethal means of taking people out, they’d definitely shoot first and ask questions later.

 

And Jack had served as an AFSOC before, so he’d dealt with plenty of Rangers—and since starting with the SGC, Danny had taught him plenty about dealing with civilians.

 

“See, I knew I liked you, Ellison,” Jack finally said. “Sandburg? You have the same answer?”

 

“Look, if someone is even thinking about hurting Jim, I’d kill them without a second’s thought,” Sandburg replied evenly. “And since I’ve got a non-lethal means to shut them down, I can’t promise not to be trigger-happy.”

 

That wasn’t the response Jack had expected, but he couldn’t fault Sandburg’s answer. He suspected that Ellison would be a lot happier if he knew his partner would do whatever it took to protect him.

 

Hell, Jack knew that every member of his team would say the same thing.

 

“Listen up, people,” Jack said. “If I can’t be a role model, look at Ellison and Sandburg. Your team is your responsibility. Even if you’re not technically in charge, they’re your responsibility. You take an oath to keep earth safe, sure, but you go out with your team, and they trust that you’ll back them up.”

 

Every eye in the room was focused on Jack now, and he knew he had their attention. “That means you will do everything in your power to bring them through the gate and back home.”

 

He saw the looks the others gave each other, and Sandburg and Ellison slid down in their seats, probably not appreciating the comment. “But here’s the thing,” he said sharply. “These two are partners. They’ve got abilities that put the Goa’uld to shame. They are the best chance we’ve got at finding missing SGC personnel, so you’re going to pay attention to them.”

 

When they all stayed seated, staring at him, Jack barked, “Dismissed. Be back here in one hour.”

 

Ellison and Sandburg stayed in their seats. “Thanks a lot, sir,” Ellison grumbled.

 

Sandburg smirked. “You’re a role model, Jim. Deal with it.”

 

“So are you,” Ellison shot back. “You were the one who said you’d kill for me.”

 

“And that’s what these people need to hear,” Jack insisted. “Everybody who goes through the gate needs to be okay with killing anybody who threatens their team members, even if it’s never necessary.”

 

Sandburg sighed. “Look, Colonel O’Neill, I get what you’re saying, but I’m not sure you can draw a comparison between Jim and me and anyone else.”

 

“That’s what you think, Sandburg,” Jack replied. “When you’re on a gate team for a while, you’ll get that.”

 

Sandburg bristled. “You think I don’t get what it means to be part of a team?”

 

Ellison put a hand on Sandburg’s arm and murmured, “Easy, Chief.”

 

“I think that you both have relied on each other for so long, and you’re so close, you’ve forgotten that a team might be more than just the two of you,” Jack replied. “And I suspect that if the choice is between Ellison and somebody else, you’re going to choose Jim.”

 

Sandburg shifted uncomfortably. “That would depend on the circumstances,” he hedged.

 

Jack nodded. That wasn’t a surprise, but he needed to make some determinations about how to handle the two of them, and he thought Sandburg might give him the answers sooner than Ellison would. “I need to talk to you alone, Sandburg.”

 

Ellison stiffened. “I don’t—”

 

“Jim,” Sandburg said, in a good imitation of Ellison’s earlier tone. “It’s okay.”

 

They shared a look, and Jack belatedly realized that it didn’t matter if he asked to talk to Sandburg without Jim present. Ellison could probably overhear them unless Jack ordered him to the surface, and even that wasn’t a guarantee.

 

Ellison left, his shoulders tight with tension, and Jack ignored the fact that he was probably hovering outside in the hall.

 

“What did you need to ask me, Colonel?” Sandburg asked pleasantly.

 

“I need to know if I can send Ellison out in the field without you,” Jack replied bluntly. “Can anybody be a guide?”

 

Sandburg grimaced. “Now, there’s a question.” He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “The short answer is that I don’t know. I don’t think there’s anything that sets me apart. The longer answer is that I think being a guide is a little like memory foam.”

 

Jack frowned. “ _Memory foam_?”

 

“Yeah,” Sandburg said, clearly warming to his topic. “Anybody could lay down on it, but once it takes your shape, it’s done, right? That’s it. Maybe a guide has something special, I don’t know, but I think that once someone becomes a Sentinel’s guide, that’s it.”

 

“And Jim’s memory foam is in the shape of you,” Jack suggested.

 

“If you want to put it that way,” Sandburg said.

 

Jack nodded. “So, can I send Ellison out in the field without you?”

 

Sandburg hesitated, and glanced at the door, which told Jack that Sandburg expected Ellison to be listening in, too, and wasn’t sure how Ellison would respond. “Six months ago, I would have said yes, absolutely. Six months from now, I’ll probably say the same. Right at this moment, though? No, absolutely not. His senses are a little out of whack, and Jim and I have five years of trust built up between us, and that’s the key element. If a Sentinel can’t trust his guide, it’s game over. Now, if you could send someone along that Jim trusts, it might be a different story.”

 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “How long did it take for Ellison to trust you?”

 

“About four years,” Sandburg admitted. “I’m not saying it’s a perfect system.”

 

Jack had to admit that it had taken him time to trust Carter. Jack had a history with Daniel, and Teal’c had left his people and everything he knew to follow Jack, which meant something. But he’d had to feel Carter out, go on a few missions with her, to know he could trust her to watch his back. It hadn’t taken long, but there had been an adjustment period.

 

But that did give Jack an idea of how flexible Ellison might be. In other words, Jack wouldn’t bother sending Ellison on a trip without Sandburg, at least until he had other team members he trusted to act as guides. And _that_ meant Jack needed to find SGC personnel to be permanently assigned to search and rescue.

 

“You have my word,” Jack promised. “Unless I don’t have any other choice, I’ll send both of you together.”

 

Sandburg nodded. “Thanks, Colonel.”

 

Jack shook his head as the man left, hearing the low rumble of Ellison’s voice in the hallway, confirming his suspicions.

 

That was the problem with having someone like Ellison working for the SGC, but the alternatives were unpalatable. Jack was just going to have to live with it.

 

~~~~~

 

Sam watched as Jim circled her Indian like a big cat. “We don’t have to do this,” she offered.

 

“I want to,” Jim replied absently, running a hand over the seat. “It’s been a long time since I’ve ridden a motorcycle.”

 

“Well, it’s just like riding a bike,” Sam joked. “Do you still have your license?”

 

“Yeah, I always kept it,” Jim replied. “No sense in giving it up once I had the certification, just in case.” He touched the handles. “Are you sure you trust me on this?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sam asked.

 

Jim pulled his hand back, his expression conflicted. “I’ll probably be okay, but—”

 

“I trust you,” Sam said simply. “If you think you can handle it, then you can.”

 

Jim smiled that same sweet grin that had ensnared her. “I can handle it.”

 

“Okay then,” Sam replied, and swung a leg over her Harley.

 

“Just promise me that you won’t tell Sandburg I rode without a helmet,” Jim said. “He’d kill me.”

 

Sam frowned. “You sure you don’t want one?”

 

Jim shrugged off the question. “There’s a better chance that I won’t zone that way. Don’t worry about it. I’ll stop if it’s too much.”

 

She led Jim through the streets of her subdivision and then to the outskirts of town, out towards Manitou Springs, where she knew of a little cantina that served fantastic Mexican food. She glanced over her shoulder while they were stopped at a light, and Jim grinned, clearly enjoying himself.

 

“Mexican okay?” Sam called.

 

Jim shrugged. “Sounds great.”

 

They were soon ensconced in a booth with a basket of chips, salsa, and a couple of Coronas. Jim just barely dipped a chip in the salsa and frowned as he chewed, his relief clear.

 

“Is it okay?” Sam asked.

 

“I can’t handle spicy stuff like I used to,” Jim replied. “This is perfect.”

 

“There are plenty of things on the menu that are mild.”

 

“Taste is under control today,” Jim replied with a smile, scooping up more salsa. “As is everything else.”

 

Sam took a sip of her beer. “Today is a good day?”

 

“Today is a good day,” he agreed.

 

“How’s the house hunting coming?”

 

“As luck would have it, we liked the first place we saw,” Jim replied. “Good location, plenty of space, and within our price range. It needs some work, but I’m pretty handy.”

 

Somehow, that didn’t surprise Sam in the least. “So am I,” she replied. “Let me know if you need any help.”

 

“Thanks,” Jim said quietly. “I appreciate that.” He paused. “How are you doing?”

 

Sam blinked, and cleared her throat. “I’m dealing. I’ve been to a couple of sessions with Dr. McKenzie.”

 

A ripple of unease crossed Jim’s face. “Did that help?”

 

Sam shrugged. “I wasn’t going to be cleared for duty until I went. I’m surprised Janet hasn’t made it a condition of you going out in the field.”

 

“I don’t think the doctor knows quite what to do with me,” Jim admitted. “And no one’s interested in pushing me to do something I’m not on board with.”

 

“Understandable.”

 

“How are the nightmares?” Jim asked knowingly.

 

Sam winced. “I’ve had a couple, but this wasn’t the first tough mission I’ve been on.”

 

“I get that, too,” Jim said quietly.

 

“I guess you would,” Sam said. “You?”

 

Jim toyed with his beer bottle. “Some nights are better than others.”

 

Sam could see how much that admission cost Jim, and she felt more than a little honored he was willing to talk to her about it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“Not really,” Jim admitted. “I’d rather talk about something else.”

 

“Weirdest case you’ve worked on,” Sam suggested.

 

Jim grinned. “That’s a more difficult question than you might think, but it’s probably the one with the ghost.”

 

“A ghost?” Sam asked skeptically.

 

“I know,” Jim agreed, taking a drink of his beer. “I didn’t believe in them either.”

 

“Past tense.”

 

“Wait until you hear the story.”

 

When the waiter came back, they gave their orders, with Jim going for one of the mildest entrees. Sam wasn’t sure she believed in ghosts, but she had to admit that Jim told a compelling story. Sam countered with the story of their visit to the Nox, which Jim tried to top with a story about his time with the Chopec in Peru.

 

By the time they’d finished eating dinner, Sam was more relaxed than she’d been in ages, and she couldn’t remember having spent a more enjoyable evening.

 

Jim paid, and they headed back to Sam’s place at a leisurely pace, parking the bikes on one side of her garage. Sam put her helmet away and turned to find Jim watching her, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

 

“Thanks for tonight,” Jim said softly. “I felt normal for the first time in a long time.”

 

“I haven’t had that much fun in a long time,” Sam admitted. “So, thank _you_.”

 

The moment turned electric, and Jim closed the distance between them. He stopped just in front of her and reached for her hand. Sam squeezed, and moved closer.

 

Jim cupped her cheek as he brushed his lips against hers, and Sam put her hands on his shoulders, pulling him in closer, deepening the kiss. Jim’s mouth was warm and clever and inviting.

 

It was one of the better kisses Sam had experienced.

 

When Jim pulled back, he caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Thanks.”

 

“Any time,” Sam replied, meaning it. “I’ll see you soon.”

 

Jim gave her one last brief kiss. “Tomorrow, probably.”

 

Sam watched him head back out to his truck, waiting until he’d driven off before closing the garage.

 

And then she touched her lips and smiled.

 

~~~~~

 

Four days of classroom work were followed by two days of weapons’ certification. Everybody in the orientation class had combat experience; Blair was the only one who didn’t, although he was certified with a 9 mil.

 

Blair didn’t have any problems with the P-90, though, and hand grenades were relatively easy. After that, they moved on to alien technology—zats and staff weapons—as well as how to recognize and handle Goa’uld hand devices and a sarcophagus.  Jim was proud of his partner and how well he did.

 

“I recommend continuing to take classes on hand-to-hand,” O’Neill said at the end of the two days. “The Jaffa, in particular, are experienced in that kind of combat, and you’ll need to be able to hold your own. For right now, however, congratulations on surviving orientation. Show up tomorrow at 0800 for your assignments and pre-mission briefings. Ellison, Sandburg, stay behind.”

 

They looked at each other, and Jim shrugged.

 

When they were alone, O’Neill said, “I’ve got a mission for you two.”

 

“Yes, sir?” Jim asked carefully.

 

“We have a training course scheduled with candidates fresh out of the Academy,” O’Neill replied. “We’ve lost a lot of young officers over the years, mostly because they couldn’t tell the difference between a Goa’uld and a Tok’ra, and they didn’t know how to handle themselves in the unique situations we find ourselves in. Our enemies are not human, which is where you’re going to come in handy, Ellison.”

 

“I’m not sure I understand,” Jim replied.

 

“We’re designing a course that will put candidates to the test. We’ve constructed a few scenarios, but we want you to play a part. They’ll never see you coming,” O’Neill smiled, his expression a little feral.

 

Blair frowned. “You’re setting them up to fail.”

 

“I want to see what they do in the face of imminent failure,” O’Neill countered. “And you’re going to stack the deck.”

 

Jim shrugged. “Sounds like fun.”

 

O’Neill grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that. You two have the next two days off. Use them wisely.”

 

Once he’d left, Blair said, “Well, I guess we have time to finalize the house thing.”

 

“Looks like,” Jim agreed. “I guess we’re really in the middle of it now, aren’t we?”

 

“You okay with this?”

 

Jim shrugged. “I guess I have to be, don’t I? And I didn’t lie. This training course does sound like fun.”

 

Blair laughed. “Yeah, I guess turnabout is fair play. Come on, man. We need to call the realtor.”

 

Jim let Blair make the call, since the realtor, Mary Silver, had seemed to take a shine to Blair.

 

“She said the owners have accepted our counteroffer,” Blair said, with a hand over the mouthpiece. “She wanted to know if we want to walk through again before we let them know we let them know we’re definitely going to take it.”

 

Jim shrugged. “Yeah, why not? I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.”

 

Blair relayed the information, and hung up. “I told her we’d meet her there.”

 

The house had the benefit of being close to the base, on a large lot, with a large park bordering the back of the lot. There were neighbors, but they were far enough away not to be a concern, and someone had planted large trees around the house to offer shelter.

 

The long driveway would probably need repaving in the next few years, but the inspector had certified that the foundation was sound, and the roof had been replaced two years ago.  The split-level was cream with dark blue trim, built into the side of a hill with a walkout basement.

 

“The porch is going to need minor repairs,” Jim observed as they climbed the steps to the front door to wait for Mary. “The siding looks good, though.”

 

“The whole house looks good,” Blair said, waving at the door. “I just can’t believe we’re talking about home ownership.”

 

Jim smiled. “I got a call from the property manager, and the loft is already rented. With what that will bring in, we’ve got nearly the entire mortgage payment.”

 

“Damn.” Blair whistled appreciatively. “I guess that means I’ll actually be able to save for retirement.”

 

“It’s the smart thing to do,” Jim replied. “Especially since we’ll get combat pay for some of our time.”

 

Mary drove up in her silver—of course—Lexus, and strode up to the house in her power suit and heels. “Hello!” she called. “Sorry, I ran into traffic. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

 

“Not long,” Blair replied with a grin. “Thanks for meeting us here.”

 

“Oh, it’s no problem at all!” Mary insisted cheerfully.

 

Jim just bet it wasn’t. She was making a pretty decent commission off them.

 

“Obviously, the owners have already moved,” Mary said. “So, once we close, you can move in, and they’re very interested on closing right away, as you can probably understand. The house has been on the market for a while.”

 

“Why?” Jim asked bluntly. “This is a great place.”

 

“It’s close to the base,” Mary began apologetically. “And it’s a little rundown inside.”

 

Jim shrugged. “That’s cosmetic.”

 

“Most people moving to the area are interested in new construction,” Mary replied. “They can do more customization that way.”

 

Blair glanced at Jim. “Then I guess we lucked out.”

 

The original owners hadn’t done much to update the place, but the scarred wooden floors had character, and the wallpaper and wooden paneling would come out easily enough. They’d paint, and Blair would add his touch, and the place would look like home.

 

Jim ignored the stairs to the second level in favor of walking through the living area towards the kitchen. The floors creaked under his feet, the sound echoing in the empty house. The dining room had large windows looking out to the backyard, and Jim walked under the arch to the kitchen, which had been remodeled, and was probably the most modern part of the house.

 

From the kitchen, there were three steps down to the den with a fireplace. One wall was bare brick, and the carpet was relatively new. The den had windows that made up two walls, letting in the fading light.

 

“This is a good space,” Blair murmured.

 

Jim wandered down to the basement, which was finished, although the carpet was brown shag and the walls were painted a ghastly yellow. Jim sneezed, and made a mental note to check for mold.

 

“This is going to need some work,” Blair commented, peeking into the small bathroom. “But it will make a decent rec room. You want to go upstairs?”

 

The second floor also needed work, but it wasn’t in bad shape. They’d need to pull up the carpet, and probably install wood flooring, since it wouldn’t catch as much dust or odors, and they’d have to repaint, but the master bedroom and bath were in good repair, and someone had recently redone the second bathroom on that floor.

 

“You should take the master bedroom,” Jim said quietly.

 

Blair frowned. “Why me?”

 

“Because you’ve got your own bathroom,” Jim replied with a grin. “Which means I’m less likely to hear you.”

 

“If you’re okay with that,” Blair said.

 

“We can turn one of the bedrooms into an office,” Jim said absently. “There’s enough room for a couple of desks if they’re not too big.”

 

“We’ll have to buy desks,” Blair said.

 

“We’ll have to buy a lot of stuff,” Jim replied, turning to face Blair. “Are you on board with this?”

 

“I’m so there, Jim,” Blair replied. “This is awesome.”

 

Jim grinned. “Then I guess we’re going to become homeowners.”

 

~~~~~

 

Jack looked around the room. “So, does everybody know what they’re doing?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Carter said stoutly.

 

Sandburg shifted in his seat and opened his mouth—probably to argue; he wore the same expression Daniel did right before he objected to Jack’s plan—and then his mouth snapped shut. He glanced at Ellison a little guiltily.

 

Jack knew he was going to regret it, but he asked, “Something you want to share with the rest of us, Sandburg?”

 

Sandburg shook his head. “No, sir.”

 

Jack gave him a hard look but decided not to press the issue. “Good. Dismissed.”

 

Jack, General Kerrigan, and General Hammond had sat down and cooked up this new testing regimen. They had lost too many young officers over the years, and something had to change; they needed a better way to weed out the duds. Being at the top of their class at the Academy didn’t mean they were going to survive their first confrontation with the Goa’uld.

 

That was why their first confrontation with aliens wouldn’t be where they could get killed—at least so far as they knew.

 

The first batch included one Lieutenant Jennifer Hailey—Carter’s favorite, although Jack didn’t see the appeal. She was smart, but she had a chip on her shoulder the size of a mountain, and an attitude that set his teeth on edge. Carter seemed to identify with her, and Jack wondered what she had been like as a young officer, unseasoned by years and experience.

 

Jack chastised himself for entertaining such thoughts. Carter was off-limits, no matter their feelings for each other. He shouldn’t be thinking about her at all except in a strictly professional sense.

 

The first couple of days followed the same pattern as the orientation for more experienced officers. Of course, their answers to the scenarios Jack posed demonstrated their lack of experience, and they tended to try to outthink him, rather than just answering the question.

 

What was worse, even when Jack gave them the right answer—or at least one he thought might be acceptable—he could see all four of them biting back arguments. And the only reason they _weren’t_ arguing was because they all wanted a spot at the SGC so badly they could taste it, and they knew he was the gatekeeper.

 

In other words, they irritated the hell out of him.

 

On the third day, when they started weapons training, Jack brought in Ellison, mostly to prove that they weren’t nearly as good as they thought they were.

 

“Ladies and gents,” Jack began. “This is Major Ellison. He’s probably the best shot on the base, which means you all probably think you’re better.”

 

Ellison smirked, right on cue.

 

“He’s going to help you _get_ better,” Jack continued. “Because tomorrow we’re going to start working with real scenarios, where you will use training weapons, which we call an _intar_. They’ll deliver a non-lethal shock if you hit someone, and while you might not realize it right now, that’s a big _if_.”

 

The kids all looked at each other, and Jack could see the wheels turning. They all thought they were the best, and that they were invincible, and that’s what Ellison was about to knock out of them.

 

Jack glanced at Ellison, who hitched one shoulder.

 

“Great. Major? It’s all yours.”

 

They were standing on the firing range at Peterson Air Force Base, because Jack thought they’d get more out of it that way. There were wind conditions to consider, and various distractions they wouldn’t find at the firing range in Cheyenne Mountain Complex.

 

In a move that Jack had to admire, Ellison turned and drew his weapon in one smooth movement, firing at the target right in front of him. The range officer radioed in as soon as the echo faded. “There’s just one hole, sir. He put all of the bullets through the same point.”

 

Jack wasn’t about to let on that Ellison’s skill was at least partially a result of his super-human eyesight; Ellison’s abilities had been deemed top secret—off limits to anybody who didn’t need to know. And these kids didn’t need to know, not today. They’d see Ellison as a highly skilled soldier.

 

And that was the lesson Jack wanted to get across—there was always an enemy who would be a better soldier, a better strategist, or have better weapons. And there was always someone who was more than they appeared to be. The real question was how a soldier responded when losing was inevitable.

 

“And that’s how you do it,” Jack said, waiting as the range officer brought proof of Ellison’s expertise. He ignored the murmur from the kids, as did Ellison. “Now, let’s see what you’ve got.”

 

They were all good; they wouldn’t have gotten this far if they hadn’t been. But after Ellison’s display of prowess, they accepted his instruction with something bordering on awe.

 

Well, three of them did. Hailey was the exception. She looked at Ellison with suspicion, as though she suspected she was being set up but hadn’t figured out how.

 

Ellison didn’t seem to notice. He gave quiet instructions as they fired, correcting their stances and giving advice on how to deal with wind conditions.

 

“If you want or need more sniper training, you’re welcome to apply for it,” Jack said when they were packing their weapons away for the day. “Marksmanship comes in handy far more often than you might think.”

 

The kids saluted them both and headed back to the transport. Jack glanced at Ellison, who appeared pale, with deep lines around his eyes and mouth that spoke of tremendous pain.

 

“You okay?” Jack asked.

 

“Yes, sir,” Ellison replied readily.

 

“Do you have a ride back to the base?”

 

“I drove,” Ellison responded.

 

Jack glanced at the transport that would take the kids back to base, and he waved the sergeant on. “I’ll drive you back, then.”

 

For a minute, it looked like Ellison would argue, but in the end, he handed his keys over without comment. “You up for this?” Jack asked once they were underway.

 

“Yes, sir,” Ellison said readily.

 

“You did good with them today.”

 

“They’re so fucking young,” Ellison muttered, adding hastily, “Sir.”

 

“Knock that off,” Jack said wearily, knowing exactly where Ellison was coming from. “And yeah, I swear they get ten years younger with every group.”

 

Ellison sighed. “To answer the question, Sandburg will be with me for the big exercise. I won’t have a problem then.”

 

Jack cleared his throat awkwardly. “Look, Ellison, I know you’ve got some special requirements. I get that. Don’t get pushed into an assignment because you think you have to take it.”

 

“Thank you, Colonel,” Ellison replied formally. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

 

Jack made a mental note to touch base with Sandburg, and to keep a close eye on Ellison. He knew people, and he’d seen Ellison’s sort before. He was the kind of guy who would knock himself out to complete the mission, with no thought as to whether he’d be in one piece to enjoy the accolades later.

 

Those officers were great for getting things done, but Jack didn’t like losing any man or woman under his command. He certainly wasn’t about to lose Ellison and his extraordinary abilities.

 

~~~~~

 

Blair hadn’t been thrilled with the prospect of Jim going to the firing range without him. As much trouble as Jim had admitted having with his senses lately, Blair thought it was a better idea for them to stick together, but he saw O’Neill’s point. Jim’s senses gave him an edge, and he had firearms expertise from his time in the Rangers. Blair’s presence wouldn’t make a lot of sense to the candidates; it was a better strategy to keep him in reserve for the big exercise.

 

Plus, he could use the time to work on his dissertation.

 

It was late afternoon when he heard a knock on the door, and Blair somehow wasn’t surprised to see Jim standing on the other side, looking like he was going to keel over at any moment.

 

“What happened?” Blair asked, pulling Jim inside.

 

Jim shook his head. “It was just a long day.”

 

“The firing range?”

 

“Yeah,” Jim grunted, squinting.

 

Blair turned on the bedside lamp and flipped the overhead lights off. “Spikes?”

 

“I think a migraine,” Jim said.

 

Blair pushed him to sit on the bed. “I need you to be a little more specific.”

 

“There was a lot of dust,” Jim admitted. “And I couldn’t keep my hearing dialed down far enough while we were on the range.”

 

“Did you wear protective gear?” Blair asked.

 

Jim shrugged. “Yeah, but it didn’t do much good.”

 

“What else?”

 

“When one of them goes, the rest go with it,” Jim replied.

 

It would be just their luck that the gate alarm would sound at precisely that moment, and Jim flinched, putting his hands over his ears, the lines of pain around his eyes and mouth deepening.

 

In the early days, when Blair had been flying by the seat of his pants most of the time, when it was all trial and error, he’d never even stopped to consider that his methods might not work. His attitude had been “if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” He’d been completely confident, and that confidence had been contagious. However grudgingly, Jim had tried Blair’s techniques, and they’d worked far more often than they’d failed.

 

Blair wasn’t sure if he’d gotten older or more cynical, or if it was just harder to watch Jim struggle with things that had come so easily a few months ago, but he was no longer nearly so confident in his abilities as a guide.

 

And all of the old tricks—the sleep mask, the white noise generator, whatever—tended to make Jim feel claustrophobic. Blair might have tried a sensory deprivation chamber, just to give Jim some relief, but he knew that Jim would feel trapped. And after what had happened to him, that wasn’t an option.

 

“Okay, okay,” Blair murmured, putting his hands over Jim’s. “I know that was a little too much, and I know you’re hurting right now, but I need you to take a deep breath.”

 

Blair breathed in and out, willing Jim to mirror him, and while he was doing that, he started using acupressure points, starting with Jim’s hand. “That’s right,” Blair coached. “Keep breathing.”

 

Jim’s shoulders relaxed, his posture losing some of the tension, and Blair moved up Jim’s arm, pressing carefully. “You should shower,” Blair said quietly. “Get the dust off you. How’s touch?”

 

“I itch, but it’s not too bad yet,” Jim admitted.

 

“Use my stuff,” Blair urged. “I’ll grab your clothes.”

 

Jim cracked his eyes open. “People are going to talk.”

 

“Let them talk,” Blair replied recklessly. “We’ll tell them it’s Sentinel stuff. General Hammond would believe it.”

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Jim let out a breath. “Thanks, Chief.”

 

“Get cleaned up,” Blair ordered.

 

He went next door and grabbed the oldest, most comfortable clothing he could find, something that wouldn’t irritate Jim’s skin, and soft cotton was the way to go. Jim had rolled his eyes, but Blair had ensured that everything Jim wore was washed in fragrance-free, hypoallergenic detergent. He was still trying to convince Jim to switch over to all-natural body products, but Jim kept insisting that if it worked before, there was no need to change it.

 

That was why, when Jim was having a bad day, Blair nudged Jim to shower in his quarters, with Blair’s Sentinel-friendly products.

 

By the time Jim emerged from the bathroom, he looked better. “You hungry?” Blair asked.

 

“I should probably eat something,” Jim replied.

 

“That’s not an answer.”

 

“It’s the best one I’ve got.” Jim sat down on the bed next to Blair. “I’ll be glad when we’ve got our own place.”

 

“You and me both,” Blair agreed. “I can go grab us something if you don’t want to deal with the people.”

 

“I don’t,” Jim said. “But I don’t want to make you fetch my dinner.”

 

“I’m not fetching _your_ dinner,” Blair shot back. “I’m fetching _our_ dinner. There’s a difference.”

 

Jim gave him a long look. “Sorry you’re saddled with a defective Sentinel.”

 

“You’re _not_ defective!” Blair hissed. “Dammit, Jim! You don’t get it!”

 

Jim flinched, looking away. “Blair, I barely made it through an afternoon on the firing range. O’Neill insisted on driving me back to the base.”

 

“The firing range might have been a little ambitious,” Blair admitted. “But we’ll get you there.” He sighed. “Look, I’ll grab dinner and be right back.”

 

Blair had always known Jim was remarkable, and he’d always believed that Jim could do amazing things with his senses, but there had been a part of him that had wondered what might happen if Jim couldn’t get control.

 

And the most fucked up thing about all of this was that it was _his_ fault. If Blair had just managed to prevent his dissertation from leaking, they would have left Jim alone, and Jim wouldn’t be in this fix now.

 

So, in a way, Blair owed Jim a lot more than grabbing an occasional meal from the mess when Jim didn’t want to deal with other people. Blair would give Jim whatever he needed for as long as he needed, because that was the only way he could think of to make things right.

 

~~~~~

 

After an evening with Blair and a decent night’s sleep, Jim felt one hundred-percent better—ready to face the world, or at least a day going over old mission reports to get a better handle on the Goa’uld, especially since he was supposed to play one.

 

Well, Jim was supposed to play someone who had been compromised. He was looking for inspiration.

 

Blair was still working on his dissertation, and since that was a big part of the reason they’d come to the SGC, Jim wasn’t going to distract him. The sooner Blair got his doctorate, the sooner Jim got his guide back full time.

 

He could use a quiet day; tomorrow was the big exercise, the one where Jim would be crawling around the bowels of the SGC, picking off the newbies one by one.

 

Jim had to admit that the idea held some appeal.

 

There was a brief knock on the door to the office Jim shared with a couple of other officers. Not that he could complain; he still had more privacy than he’d had in the bullpen.

 

“Yeah?” Jim called, pulling his attention from the report in front of him.

 

“Major Ellison,” Teal’c said. “I wanted to ask you if you were still willing to spar.”

 

Jim frowned. “Now?”

 

“Is this a bad time?” Teal’c asked.

 

Jim realized that he didn’t have anything else to do, and that sparring with Teal’c was actually part of his job description now. As a cop, working out had been necessary, but something to do on his off-hours.

 

From his time in the Rangers, Jim could recall whole weeks before and after the action when all he had to do was work out. And now, Teal’c was offering to spar with him, and Jim knew enough to know he’d be an idiot to pass up the opportunity.

 

“No, not at all,” Jim replied. “It’s fine. My eyes were beginning to cross anyway.”

 

Jim followed Teal’c to the on-base gym, not sure what to expect. He’d done hand-to-hand training in the past, but that had mostly been down and dirty street-fighting, nothing formal. And Teal’c, for lack of a better term, was an alien; Jim suspected his technique would be a little alien as well, just like his meditation practices.

 

“Have you used a staff weapon before?” Teal’c asked once they’d reached the gym.

 

Jim shrugged out of his BDU shirt and folded it neatly before setting it on the floor. “Just during orientation, when we were learning how they worked.”

 

Teal’c gave him a long, measuring look. “That is not how we will use them today.”

 

Jim watched as Teal’c picked up two wooden staffs from the rack on one side of the room, and he silently followed Teal’c to the center of the mats. He hoped he wouldn’t embarrass himself by zoning or spiking, but Teal’c had seen Jim at his worst, right after his rescue. Jim didn’t think Teal’c would hold it against him if he lost control, and the gym was mostly empty.

 

Teal’c tossed him one of the weapons and bowed slightly. “We begin.”

 

Jim inclined his head, just a little deeper than Teal’c had, and brought his staff up on guard.

 

Teal’c was a patient, if demanding, instructor, moving slowly until he had gauged Jim’s skill, and then moving a little more quickly, pulling his strikes at first, giving Jim instructions as they went along.

 

Even though Jim had never really fought with a staff before, he was used to grabbing whatever weapon came to hand, and he began to move with more confidence fairly soon.

 

Sensing that, Teal’c began to strike a little harder, not pulling his blows, which in turn had Jim dialing up his senses instinctively, just a little, so that he could better see the play of muscles under Teal’c’s skin, hear the faint exhalations that told him when Teal’c was moving, and where.

 

For the first time in a long time, Jim’s senses were completely under his control—although that was mostly because his entire world had narrowed to the fight—the sound of wood against wood and occasionally against skin, Teal’c’s movements, the smell of old sweat.

 

When Teal’c finally said, “Enough,” Jim stopped cold, the world crashing back in on him. He had no idea how long they’d been sparring, but his muscles were burning, and his t-shirt was stuck to his skin. Teal’c had just barely broken a sweat, but his smile was approving. “Well done, Major Ellison.”

 

Jim panted and returned Teal’c’s bow, and then he heard the sound of slow clapping behind him. When he turned, Jim realized that they apparently had an audience. O’Neill was the one clapping, somewhat ironically, but there were half a dozen others watching with expressions on their faces that ranged from “impressed” to “freaked the fuck out.”

 

“We’re meeting in the mess to go over the plan for tomorrow,” O’Neill said. “You guys have the time?”

 

“Of course,” Teal’c replied. “Thank you, Major Ellison.”

 

“I should be thanking you,” Jim replied. “That was great.”

 

Teal’c bowed slightly and said, “ _Tek’ma’te_.”

 

Jim inclined his head and decided to ask someone else what that meant. As he walked back to his quarters, he realized his senses were still a little sharper than they usually were, the adrenalin rushing through his system giving him a nice buzz.

 

It had been like this in the middle of a firefight, too, and just after, when everything had clicked into place—colors were sharper, smells easier to distinguish and file away, sounds clear and bright. Jim could feel the air currents, the way the fabric of his t-shirt and pants clung to his skin.

 

On the one hand, Jim felt like he was on the top of the world right now; on the other, he hated to think that the only time he’d feel halfway normal was in the middle of battle.

 

What did it mean that the only time he felt _right_ was when he was fighting? Teal’c had managed to trigger that instinct today, and Jim was relieved that he was probably going to be okay off-world. He’d dial up, and he’d be sharp.

 

But that just meant that Jim had become someone who couldn’t function outside the battlefield.

 

That scared him.

 

Jim pushed it aside, shoved it down, and stripped out of his sweaty uniform and stepped into the shower. The hot water sluiced the sweat off his body, and he rubbed shampoo through his hair. Jim had finally given into Blair and had replaced his regular soap and shampoo with the all-natural stuff Blair had recommended.

 

He hated to admit it, but it _did_ make a difference.

 

Jim did his best not to think as he dried off and dressed. He headed for the mess, where O’Neill had indicated they’d meet, and was amused to see SG-1 already present, with Blair, and it looked like all of them had a piece of cake.

 

“Saved you a piece,” Blair said, sliding his piece in front of Jim as soon as he sat down.

 

Jim frowned. “You don’t want it?”

 

Blair shook his head. “Not really. I had a cookie earlier.”

 

Jim couldn’t sense any deception, and he accepted the dessert. “Thanks. How did things go today?”

 

O’Neill grimaced. “They’re a cocky bunch, and they keep thinking they can outthink me. It’s irritating.”

 

Jim saw Sam suppress a smile. “So, typical 22-year-olds?” Jim asked.

 

O’Neill glared at him. “Speak for yourself, Ellison. I wasn’t nearly as arrogant.”

 

Daniel laughed outright, Sam valiantly strove to keep a straight face, and even Teal’c’s lips twitched.

 

Jim just raised his eyebrows. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

 

“Now more than ever,” O’Neill replied. “And that’s why I wanted to talk to you. We’re going to pay special attention to Hailey.”

 

Sam frowned. “Why?”

 

“Because she’s been a particular thorn in my side,” O’Neill snapped. “And today was no different. Daniel knows what I’m talking about.”

 

Jim kept his expression carefully neutral, watching the interplay with interest.

 

Daniel sighed. “Jack—”

 

“Hailey has to prove herself just like any other recruit,” O’Neill insisted. “And she’s on my last nerve.”

 

“She _was_ one of the most vocal in protesting that the exercises were pointless,” Daniel said with an apologetic look at Sam. “It’s going to take a lot to get a real reaction out of her.”

 

“So, tomorrow we have a foothold situation, and I play super-soldier,” Jim inserted quietly. “They won’t see me coming, and they’ll learn about dealing with impossible odds.”

 

Sam shook her head. “That’s not exactly fair. It’s not like the Goa’uld have super-soldiers.”

 

“They aren’t _just_ going to be facing Goa’uld,” O’Neill replied. “So, they should be prepared for whatever.” O’Neill’s smile suggested that he wasn’t expecting them to be prepared at all.

 

“You’re kind of stacking the deck against them,” Daniel pointed out.

 

“And it’s not stacked against us every day?” O’Neill countered. “They’ll deal with it, or they won’t make it.”

 

Jim glanced at Blair, who shrugged. “You want us together?” Blair asked.

 

O’Neill leaned back in his chair. “Do you need to be together?”

 

“No,” Jim insisted. “In a battle situation, I’m okay alone.”

 

O’Neill grinned. “Great. Then I have an idea to make this even better.”

 

~~~~~

 

Sam’s role in the exercise was fairly minor. She had been designated as the lone holdout with information about the supposed invasion. Once O’Neill led them to her lab, she’d point them in the right direction—toward Daniel and Teal’c, who were playing the bad guys.

 

O’Neill, General Hammond, and General Kerrigan had come up with the original plan, which was to simulate a foothold situation at the SGC, beginning with O’Neill running them ragged with another exercise. Daniel and Teal’c would feign being the ringleaders, with O’Neill pretending to be injured.

 

The twist that O’Neill had come up with was for Sam to tell the candidates that Blair—called Sanduk—was a Tok’ra visiting the base, and if anything happened to him, it would prompt an intergalactic incident. The catch was that Major Ellison would be looking for him, and was somewhere in the SGC, too.

 

And the twist to the twist was that after it was all over, after the candidates thought they were safe, Jim would claim Blair was a _za’tarc_ , and Blair would claim that _Jim_ was, and then they’d both start shooting—if the kids didn’t shoot them both first, which was what O’Neill wanted them to do.

 

Although, as far as Sam knew, Jim had orders to take out at least one and drive the others to cover, just to see if they’d risk their own lives to pull a teammate to safety.

 

Well, Sam amended in her thoughts. If Jim didn’t shoot them all before they managed to pull out their weapons. She’d heard about his session in the gym with Teal’c; the whole complex was abuzz.

 

 _No one_ held their own against Teal’c on their first try, and the rumor was that Jim had. When Sam had asked Jim about it, he’d downplayed it, insisting that Teal’c had gone easy on him, but Teal’c had called Jim a “worthy opponent,” which was high praise indeed.

 

If Sam had to guess, it had something to do with Jim’s senses, which he still wasn’t comfortable acknowledging.

 

Once Sam got the signal that things were in play, she slapped a bandage on her thigh and pretended to be working feverishly at solving the question as to what had invaded them. In reality, she was going over a report from Dr. Lee, who had been doing a more detailed analysis of one of the issues they’d been having with getting more power out of the naquadah generators.

 

By the time O’Neill showed up with the kids in tow, Sam hoped she looked appropriately harried. She was certainly irritated enough by what she’d read in the report, and by the interruption, to look as though she was in the middle of a crisis.

 

Sam gave the bullshit explanation about an alien influence, complete with mock-up slides of the blood samples from the “infected” personnel. The kids seemed to buy it, although Hailey looked a little suspicious when Sam told them that Jim was uninfected and trying to find Blair.

 

“What if Major Ellison has been compromised?” Hailey demanded.

 

“You’ll have to make that determination if you run into him,” O’Neill replied. “If he starts shooting at you, he’s probably compromised. But right now, he’s looking for Sanduk, because if something happens to him, we’re all screwed.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Hailey muttered for all of them.

 

Sam looked them over. In addition to Hailey, there was Lieutenants Anthony Cooper, Josh Bristow, and Asa Zehtab. The three guys seemed to have accepted Hailey’s leadership, maybe because she had experience with the SGC.

 

In all honesty, Sam understood how difficult Hailey was. It was only the memory of how much of a pain she’d been for her first few years after the Academy that gave Sam the patience to deal with her.

 

But the truth was, Sam had _never_ been this big of a pain, because she’d known that her father would be called, and that had been the _last_ thing she’d wanted. Hailey didn’t have the benefit—or the burden—of having a general for a father. Instead, Sam had been relatively compliant, at least with her professors, and she’d gone along with her commanding officers, even when they’d been total assholes.

 

Later, when she’d been a captain, and an expert on wormholes, she’d had an easier time standing up to higher-ranking officers like Colonel O’Neill. She’d had a basis to challenge him, and she’d been secure in her own position. Hailey wasn’t there yet, and she didn’t have Sam’s baggage holding her back.

 

Or holding her in check. It was a fine line.

 

“We’ll get it done,” Hailey promised.

 

Sam just hoped that Hailey could shed her own baggage to succeed at the SGC, because they needed her.

 

“Even if he’s compromised, _don’t kill Major Ellison_ ,” O’Neill ordered. “He’s important, more important than you know. So, take him alive.”

 

Sam saw Hailey’s grimace, and she was grateful that even though the candidates _thought_ they were carrying live ammo, they weren’t. And everyone who could come under fire—Daniel, Teal’c, Jim and Blair—were wearing vests, although they weren’t visible.

 

“We’ll take that under consideration,” Hailey promised.

 

“Go,” O’Neill said. “We’ll work this angle and radio you with information.”

 

Sam and O’Neill’s feigned injuries were enough to have the candidates leave them behind in Sam’s lab.

 

She worried about Jim all through the exercise, hearing the updates from the SGC personnel and occasionally from Daniel, Blair, or Jim.

 

Eventually, Jim said, “We’re clear, and I’m going to the gate room. We’ll meet you there.”

 

Sam knew that this was only the next step in the exercise; there was still the twist, when Jim radioed in, “Blair’s here. Things could get interesting.”

 

She moved a little faster, wanting to get there in time for the show, and to intercede if necessary. As she approached the control room, Sam heard raised voices, and she quickened her pace.

 

“I’m telling you! He’s a _za’tarc_!” Jim shouted, sounding entirely convincing as Sam skidded into the gate room.

 

“And I’m telling you it is _him_!” Blair yelled in reply, his voice distorted by the synthesizer that made him sound like a Tok’ra, or a Goa’uld.

 

Jim pulled a handgun, and the tension in the room ratcheted up. When Blair pulled his 9 mil—both weapons loaded with the same ammunition the _intars_ used, although the kids wouldn’t know that—everyone dove for cover. Sam stayed down because she didn’t want to get hit by a stray round.

 

Plus, she didn’t want to give the game away.

 

Jim did exactly what O’Neill asked him to do, hitting one of the soldiers, who went down in the middle of the gate room. Sam wondered what Jim would have said if O’Neill had asked him to shoot Blair, even knowing that the bullets wouldn’t harm him.

 

Sam knew that the current situation put the candidates in an impossible situation, since they thought Blair was a high-ranking Tok’ra, and they’d specifically been ordered not to kill Jim. Now, they were put in a position of probably having to shoot _both_ of them, and risk not getting placed on an SGC team.

 

Hailey was the one to move first. She darted out to the middle of the gate room and grabbed the fallen shoulder by the back of his vest, dragging him across the floor. Jim and Blair both fired on her, but their bullets missed the mark—Sam could only assume it was on purpose.

 

Blair moved quickly, slamming the button that would close the gate room door, which locked everybody out. Sam was inside, but most of the MPs were outside. Normally, they would have rushed in, but they’d been unusually slow, probably on O’Neill’s orders.

 

Sam knew that Blair and Jim were attempting to force their hands, and Jim poked his head out, probably in an attempt to draw fire. Hailey was the one to shoot first, hitting Jim in center mass three times, and when Blair emerged to say, “I’m glad someone listened to me!” Hailey shot him, too.

 

O’Neill came barreling into the room shortly thereafter, a medical team at his heels, demanding, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Hailey?”

 

“There was a chance he was a _za’tarc_ ,” Hailey replied. “And his symbiote will heal him if you get him medical attention.”

 

“And Major Ellison?” he demanded. “I told you to take him alive.”

 

“And Sanduk claimed he was a _za’tarc_ ,” Hailey replied stoutly. “I thought it would be better to be safe than sorry, sir.”

 

O’Neill raised an eyebrow. “And if I told you shooting Ellison was a one-way ticket out of the SGC?”

 

“I’d still say that this was my best option, sir,” Hailey replied, her eyes straight ahead, not even a hint of emotion on her face. “And I would accept the consequences.”

 

“Good answer,” O’Neill replied. “Sandburg, Ellison, you want to say hello?”

 

Hailey’s eyes went wide, and Sam moved from the sidelines to watch as the medical teams helped Jim and Blair to their feet. Blair was grinning, and Jim was rubbing his chest with a grimace. The other candidates drifted in from their positions around the perimeter, looking just as shocked as Hailey.

 

“Sir,” Hailey began, looking at Jim. “I’m sorry, I—”

 

Jim waved her off. “At ease, Lieutenant. The point was to get someone to shoot me.”

 

“But we had live ammunition,” Hailey protested.

 

“You _thought_ you had live ammo,” O’Neill replied smugly.

 

“This was all a trick?” Zehtab protested. “But we didn’t know!”

 

“That was the point,” O’Neill shot back. “You all complained that the scenarios weren’t realistic enough. That was the point here. You believed it, so we had a chance to gauge your responses in a real live fire situation.”

 

Jim was still rubbing his chest, and Sam sidled up to him. “You sure you don’t need a doctor?”

 

Shrugging, Jim surreptitiously put a hand on Blair’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” he said in an undertone.”

 

“So, what does this mean, sir?” Cooper asked carefully.

 

“That means Hailey here has a spot on an SGC team,” O’Neill replied. “And the rest of you are on a waiting list. As spots come open, you’ll get placed, too.”

 

There was a moment of stunned disbelief, and then the kids grinned and began a muted celebration—all of them except for Hailey, who cleared her throat. “But, Colonel O’Neill, I disobeyed orders.”

 

“With good reason,” O’Neill replied. “In fact, Ellison was under orders to get you to shoot him, so I would have been disappointed if one of you hadn’t done so. When there’s somebody shooting people in the SGC, I don’t care how important they are—you shoot them before they can shoot you.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Hailey agreed faintly, looking shocked that disobeying orders was actually going to get her somewhere.

 

“I don’t advise disobeying orders,” O’Neill said. “But everyone who works here needs to be able to make independent decisions, and they need to be able to lay down their lives for their teammates. You all proved your ability to do both of those things.”

 

Hailey flushed with pleasure and smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

 

“And that means you get to be the ringer with the next batch,” O’Neill announced with a smirk. “Congratulations, Lieutenant. All of you are dismissed. You’ll be receiving your new orders shortly.”

 

“You want to get dinner together?” Sam asked Jim softly.

 

Jim hesitated, and Sam could see Blair elbow him. “Tomorrow night?” he suggested.

 

“I’ll look forward to it,” she replied, not minding the postponement. She had more than a few things to catch up with after spending the last couple of days testing the candidates.

 

But she was definitely looking forward to seeing Jim again.

 

~~~~~

 

Blair couldn’t quite believe they were doing this; he was going to become a homeowner, with his name right below Jim’s, tying them together in a legal way.

 

Not that they weren’t already connected, but this was different. To Blair, this almost felt like Jim was giving up on having a permanent relationship outside of the one he had with Blair. He’d tried to address that fact with Jim, without actually coming right out and saying as much, because that would mean that he’d have to admit that _he_ wasn’t in the market for a permanent relationship.

 

Maybe, at one point, Blair might have wanted something serious eventually, but in a lot of ways, he was responsible for Jim. If he’d been more careful, if he’d just realized that there was no chance he could keep Jim’s identity secret, if he’d been less concerned with the brass ring and more concerned about _Jim_ —none of this would have happened.

 

The possibilities were endless; Blair had gone over every single one since he’d found out that the people who’d grabbed Jim were interested in his senses.

 

And the truth—the awful truth—was that Jim needed Blair as much now as he had in the beginning, and maybe more, and that he might never be in a position where he _didn’t_ need Blair. _That_ meant Blair was on Jim’s timetable. Blair would stick with Jim for as long as Jim needed him.

 

Plus, Blair had to admit that he couldn’t imagine meeting someone who meant as much to him as Jim did. If he was being _really_ honest with himself, he was more than half in love with him anyway.

 

So, he was signing the mortgage agreement, tying himself to Jim, because that was what Jim seemed to want, and Blair _definitely_ wanted it.

 

“You okay with this?” Jim asked, sounding amused.

 

“Yeah, man,” Blair insisted. “More than okay. It’s just a big step. I never thought I’d be tied down to one place.”

 

Jim’s expression iced over. “Or one person?”

 

“Hey, no,” Blair said immediately. “Where have I been the last five years, man?”

 

Jim’s expression lost a little of its remoteness. “Yeah, sorry.”

 

Blair remembered Jim’s comment from the other day, about having a defective Sentinel, and he surreptitiously put a hand on Jim’s leg under the table. “No problem.” Blair grinned brightly. “We’ve got a house.”

 

“I’m going to call Stephen to let him know he can get the movers moving,” Jim replied with a smile. “Be right back, Chief.”

 

Blair looked across the table at the realtor, who was beaming at him. “I’m so happy to be able to help you purchase your first home.”

 

“Thanks,” Blair replied, feeling a little uncomfortable. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea on the off chance it resulted in repercussions on the base. “There comes a point where you realize that you need to settle down, even if you haven’t found the right someone.”

 

Mary smiled. “You and Jim seem very happy together.”

 

“He’s my best friend,” Blair said simply. “And we’ve been roommates for a few years now. We know we work well together.”

 

Mary looked wistful. “That’s so wonderful.”

 

Blair raised his eyebrows and managed a smile. “Yeah, it’s great.”

 

“Stephen said he’d take care of things,” Jim said as he came back into the room. “He promised that he’d have things out of storage and out here by the end of the week.”

 

“Wonderful!” Mary said enthusiastically. “I hope you’ll both be happy here.”

 

“I’m sure we will,” Jim replied.

 

Jim wrote a check, and Mary handed over the keys, and that was that. Suddenly, they were homeowners, with a hell of a lot of work to do.

 

“We should make a list of things we need,” Jim said absently as they left the realtor’s office. “We can go to the hardware store after work tomorrow. We’ve got the keys, so we can unload the truck and get paint and wood flooring. The carpet shouldn’t be too hard to pull up, although it’s going to be messy.”

 

Blair grinned. Jim was sounding more and more like his old self. “You’re wearing a respirator,” Blair said. “In fact, if we can borrow a gas mask, I think it’s probably a good idea.”

 

“I’ll check with Colonel O’Neill,” Jim said. “It’s probably not a bad idea for the painting, anyway. The fumes will overwhelm me otherwise.”

 

Blair resisted the urge to say, “Thank God, he can learn!”

 

“Sounds good,” he said instead.

 

“I can hear the smirk in your voice,” Jim accused. “And Sam offered to help, if you don’t mind.”

 

Blair felt a pang. He liked Sam a lot, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about her being with Jim. “Hey, anybody who wants to help is welcome,” Blair replied easily. “I imagine we might get quite a few takers if we spring for pizza and beer.”

 

Jim smiled. “Good idea, Chief.”

 

Once they got back to the base, Jim said, “I think I’m going to head to bed. You okay with that?”

 

“I’ve got to work on the dissertation,” Blair replied. “I’m getting close.”

 

“That’s good,” Jim said. “You’ll have your Ph.D. in no time.”

 

“I’m not in a hurry,” Blair countered. “Having my Ph.D. is more than I expected. Sleep well.”

 

“You too, Chief,” Jim replied easily.

 

Blair cleared his throat to get Jim’s attention. “If you need me, you know where I am.”

 

“Always,” Jim promised.

 

Blair stayed up far too late, checking his sources and editing his footnotes, finally falling into bed around 3 am when he just couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He regretted that decision the next morning when his alarm went off at 7, reminding him that they had their first mission through the gate.

 

Granted, this was supposed to be an easy trip to a world with a mining operation, but Blair knew their luck, and he wasn’t at all certain how Jim would deal with gate travel.

 

Hell, Blair wasn’t sure how _he_ would deal with gate travel, which meant that it was easier to focus on Jim and pray he didn’t embarrass himself.

 

The briefing went quickly, mostly because it consisted of O’Neill saying, “This planet is uninhabited, but we have a mining operation there,” and that was pretty much the end of it. O’Neill had assigned two others to their team: Captain Cory Stranger, a structural engineer, and Sergeant Devon McConnell, who was introduced as an explosives expert. In addition, there was a Lieutenant Laura Madsen, who had come back to report on the mission’s progress and lead Jim’s team to the mining camp.

 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were mostly planning on using Jim for search and rescue missions, and honestly, Blair was okay with that. He just wasn’t sure what his degree in anthropology would bring to the team.

 

Then again, he knew how to back Jim up, and he was Jim’s guide, so maybe that was enough.

 

Blair made sure to stay close behind Jim as he followed Jim through the gate, and he was so focused on his partner that he barely noticed the extreme cold, although his stomach did a little flip when he came out the other side. Blair tried not to hover, knowing how badly Jim needed to look like he was in control.

 

Jim took one long breath and let it out slowly. “I’m okay,” he said softly.

 

“You did better than I did my first time through the gate, sir,” Madsen said cheerfully. “I threw up everything I’d eaten for the last week.”

 

Jim cracked a smile. “Yeah, well, I hate throwing up.”

 

“Me too,” Blair said.

 

Madsen led them away from the gate, and Jim said, “McConnell, take the rear.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Blair had to admire how easily Jim took command, and he thought that Jim was a little different now. He’d always been take-charge, but in uniform, Jim was something else altogether. Blair felt like he was seeing what Jim had been like in the Rangers, taking orders with the same ease he gave them.

 

And Blair suspected that Jim found it easier to be back in the military in some ways. There was order and safety in the chain of command, and the structure helped Jim feel like he was in control of what he _could_ control, and that the rest wasn’t his problem.

 

Upon reaching the camp, Lieutenant Colonel Edwards met them, wearing an air of impatience, like they’d taken him away from more important work. “Major Ellison. Colonel O’Neill said you wanted a tour.”

 

Jim stiffened slightly, and Blair knew that something about this guy had put his back up. “That’s what we’re here for, sir.”

 

“Let me show you around,” Edwards replied brusquely, starting off at a fast pace.

 

Blair followed them around the camp as Edwards showed off the operation. Jim made all the appropriate noises, but Blair could sense a certain amount of tension. Edwards acted as though he had far better things to do, and he didn’t so much as look at Blair.

 

“This is an impressive setup,” Jim said. “Have you had any accidents?”

 

“Not under my watch,” Edwards snapped, bristling. “I run a tight ship.”

 

“I’m sure you do, sir,” Jim replied. “I’m just trying to get a feel for things.”

 

Edwards scowled, but said only, “Was there anything else you wanted to see?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Jim replied courteously. “We really appreciate your time, Colonel.”

 

“Madsen, see them back to the gate,” Edwards ordered.

 

Blair frowned, wishing he could tell Edwards where to put it. “I think we can find our own way back,” Jim said, a hint of steel in his voice. “I wouldn’t want to take Lieutenant Madsen away from her duties.”

 

Edwards gave Jim a hard look, and Blair was beginning to think that their staring contest might go on forever, when Jim looked away, back in the direction of the gate. “Were you expecting any other visitors, Colonel?” Jim asked.

 

“No, just you,” Edwards replied. “But you can’t possibly—”

 

“We’ve got incoming,” Jim said tersely, cutting him off. “What have you got for fortifications?”

 

Edwards snorted. “You can’t possibly know that anyone came through the gate. It’s too far away.”

 

“Did you get the info from Colonel O’Neill?” Blair demanded, his own temper beginning to fray.

 

Edwards frowned. “I know what he said, but he couldn’t possibly be serious.”

 

“He’s serious,” Blair said sharply, figuring that one of the benefits of remaining outside the chain of command was that he could get away with telling off a senior officer when it was well deserved. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll do what he says.”

 

Just then, Blair could hear a high-pitched whine, and Jim shouted, “Take cover!”

 

There was a note of command in Jim’s voice that had everyone moving, even Edwards, just before the death gliders strafed the ground. Jim dragged Blair with him by the back of his tac vest, Stranger and McConnell following Jim’s lead.

 

The death gliders turned around for a second pass, and Jim called out, “Colonel! Where are your rocket launchers?”

 

“We don’t have any!” Edwards shouted.

 

Jim began firing on the gliders as they made a second pass, and Blair followed his lead, feeling the familiar rush of adrenalin. Jim cursed. “We’ve got more than gliders! At least a dozen Jaffa just came through the gate!”

 

Blair had been in firefights before, but the sheer chaos around him now was something different. There were people yelling, people running. There was the constant rat-tat-tat of P-90s, and the smell of burning grass and fabric as the death gliders’ shots hit sod and tents.

 

He tried to stick close to Jim, but lost sight of him briefly in the smoke and confusion, and then he spotted Stranger lying unconscious, out in the open. Blair moved low to the ground, grabbing Stranger by the back of his tac vest, and beginning to drag him to the closest cover.

 

An energy blast hit close—too close, and Blair was thrown several feet, tumbling when he hit the ground, crying out involuntarily when he felt the sharp pain in his right ankle.

 

“Blair!” Jim’s panicked voice was clear, and he was by Blair’s side in short order. “Are you hurt?”

 

“My ankle,” Blair admitted as Jim helped him get to cover. “Where’s Stranger?”

 

Jim jerked his head at a pile of crates, indicating Stranger’s position about ten feet away. “He’s hurt, but he’s alive. I think he’ll stay that way.”

 

“Shit, Jim,” Blair said. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

 

Jim shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. McConnell!”

 

“Here, sir,” McConnell replied, popping up at Jim’s side. “Are you okay?”

 

“I am; Sandburg’s not, and Stranger’s over there, unconscious. I need you to stay with them while I clear the gate so we can get the wounded out,” Jim said steadily.

 

Blair felt alarm. “Jim, no! Not by yourself!”

 

“If I can find someone who can keep up, I’ll grab them,” Jim promised. “But I’m fine. I’ll _be_ fine. McConnell?”

 

“I’ll stay with him, sir,” McConnell promised stoutly.

 

Jim nodded. “Good enough,” and then he was gone before Blair could call him back, but when he tried to follow, the pain nearly caused him to pass out. He was pretty sure that his ankle was broken, and not just sprained.

 

“Just hold tight, Dr. Sandburg,” McConnell said. “I’m going to pull you under better cover and then go back for Captain Stranger.”

 

Blair grayed out a bit as McConnell helped him take cover under a low growing tree, and he comes around when McConnell dragged Stranger to lie next to him. “I think he’s just knocked out,” McConnell assured Blair. “He’ll be okay. How are you doing?”

 

“My ankle hurts, but I’ll be fine,” Blair assured him. “I’m worried about Jim.”

 

“Don’t worry about Major Ellison,” McConnell said. “I saw him go up against Teal’c. Nobody holds their own against Teal’c, sir.”

 

“So I’ve heard,” Blair replied. “Let’s hope you’re right, Sergeant.”

 

They crouched silently under the tree until Blair watched as one of the gliders overhead wobbled in the air and pitched downward, crashing into the ground with a loud explosion.

 

“What the hell?” Blair asked.

 

McConnell frowned. “Looked like a staff blast to me.”

 

The second glider came down a few minutes later in much the same way, and Blair started. “What was that?”

 

“The second glider,” McConnell replied. “It’s all right, Dr. Sandburg.”

 

Blair smiled. “I’m not a doctor quite yet, Sergeant,” Blair told him. “And you can call me Blair.”

 

McConnell nodded. “Yes, sir.”

 

Stranger began to stir, and McConnell leaned over to check him out. “Easy, sir. You took a pretty hard knock to the head.”

 

“Where’s Major Ellison?” Stranger groaned.

 

“Taking care of the Jaffa that came through the gate,” McConnell replied. “He told me to stay with you two.”

 

Blair frowned. “Shouldn’t someone go after Jim?”

 

McConnell shook his head. “Sorry, doc. Best bet is for the wounded to stay under cover and wait for help.”

 

Blair was afraid that was what he was going to say, and he settled down to wait, worry twisting his stomach.

 

~~~~~

 

Once Jim was certain that McConnell had Blair and Stranger under cover, he looked around for Colonel Edwards, who was shouting directions to his people in the midst of the chaos.

 

“Sir, I can take out at least a few of those Jaffa who just came through the gate,” Jim called, “but I have to go now.”

 

Edwards frowned. “Shouldn’t you wait for a team?”

 

“We need reinforcements, and someone is going to have to let the SGC know what happened,” Jim replied. “I can do this, Colonel.”

 

Edwards waved him off. “Be careful!”

 

Jim hated leaving Blair behind, but he had no choice. Unless they got control of the gate, they would be sitting ducks for the Jaffa and death gliders, and there was nothing preventing the Goa’uld from sending reinforcements.

 

Plus, with the adrenalin coursing through his veins, his senses were sharper than ever, and he _knew_ he could take them all out without risking anybody else.

 

Jim had been something like a one-man army in Peru; he was even more capable now.

 

Crouching low to the ground, he ran towards the gate, not bothering with his P-90, not when he still had surprise on his side. Instead, moving swiftly and silently, he circled around behind the gate and used his Ka-Bar to slit the throats of the two Jaffa on guard.

 

Jim paused to collect both zats and one of the staff weapons, and then found a small hill near the base to fire on the gliders as they passed overhead. His first shot was good, and the glider went down in a ball of flame. It took Jim another couple of shots for the second, but it went down, too.

 

Once that threat had been neutralized, Jim focused on the rest of the Jaffa who had come through the gate. He moved quietly through the thick forest, hearing each small sound and seeing every broken twig that marked the Jaffa’s passage. Jim drew in a deep breath silently, and smelled incense and oil, the same scent the two dead Jaffa had.

 

Jim had no idea if anyone else would have been able to track them, but to him, their trail was as plain as the nose on his face, and he followed it without faltering.

 

The Jaffa traveled in twos or threes, but they weren’t expecting him, and he still held the element of surprise. He zatted one—two shots to kill, and used his knife on the other, slipping the blade into a chink in his armor that Jim’s superior eyesight showed him.

 

Jim might have told Blair that he’d bring company, but he hadn’t thought anyone could keep up with him—and he still thought that. Right now, Jim’s blood was up, and he knew that he’d be too busy answering questions as to how he was tracking the Jaffa. Maybe another highly trained soldier could have helped, someone with special ops training who trusted Jim’s senses, but he didn’t know that anyone currently on the planet had that kind of expertise, and there had been no time to find out.

 

Besides, Jim wasn’t going to let anything happen to Blair, even if that meant taking down a couple of death gliders and killing a lot of Jaffa.

 

He was straining his senses, trying to determine if there were any Jaffa left alive, when his radio crackled. “Major Ellison, come in.”

 

“Ellison here,” he answered.

 

“What’s your situation?” Edwards asked.

 

“Two death gliders down, and seven Jaffa dead,” Jim replied. “I haven’t heard any other gate activity, so I don’t think they’re sending reinforcements, at least not yet.”

 

“We’ve got five dead Jaffa,” Edwards replied. “Head back to the gate and dial the SGC.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Jim replied. “Is Sandburg okay?”

 

“He’s fine,” Edwards assured him. “The medic is looking at him now.”

 

Jim was already jogging back to the gate, and he dialed home, sending through his IDC. “We’ve had an incursion,” he reported as soon as he got confirmation that his signal had been received. “I took out two death gliders, and the Jaffa who came through are dead, but we could use medical support and maybe a few Marines.”

 

“What the hell?” O’Neill said over the radio. “This was supposed to be an easy mission.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Jim replied. “But Blair hurt his ankle, and Stranger probably has a concussion. I’m not sure if there are other casualties. I was a little too busy trying to keep the Jaffa from getting to the camp.”

 

“We’re sending help,” Hammond promised. “Just sit tight, Major.”

 

It was still strange to hear that title. Jim had been used to being called “Captain” before leaving the Army, and then “Detective” after that. He’d never thought to be back in the military, and he certainly had never thought he’d be a major.

 

There were times when he felt the weight of the dog tags against his chest, and it nearly took his breath away. And there were times when he thought they might drag him down.

 

Jim let the gate shut down and waited impatiently for it to whoosh to life again, wanting to get back to Blair and the others, and see for himself that his partner was okay.

 

He put the DHD between himself and the gate, and kept his P-90 trained on the wormhole as it came to life, but he was reassured when he saw four Marines come through, followed closely by Sam and O’Neill, and then Teal’c.

 

“I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” O’Neill complained good-naturedly.

 

“Not my fault someone decided to have a party and not invite you, sir,” Jim replied, still buzzing from the adrenalin.

 

O’Neill smirked at him. “I thought you might be a closet smartass, Ellison.” He waved at the medical team that had just come through the gate. “Carter, go with Ellison and secure the camp. Check in with Colonel Edwards and see what else he needs from us, and let him know what’s going on. Teal’c, watch their backs.”

 

“Where’s Dr. Jackson?” Jim asked as he led the medical team towards the camp.

 

Sam shrugged. “He was in the middle of a translation for SG-15, and Colonel O’Neill decided that we’d be okay without him. We were supposed to be off today.”

 

“Sorry,” Jim apologized.

 

“Do not apologize, Major Ellison,” Teal’c replied. “We are happy to help.”

 

“Are they going to leave the camp here?” Jim asked.

 

Sam sighed. “They want to, but it’s been decided that we’re better off evacuating for the time being, and then returning later. We’ll leave a remote monitoring system in place.”

 

“Colonel Edwards is going to be disappointed,” Jim observed. “He’s pretty proud of this operation.”

 

Sam grinned. “Let me guess—he wasn’t happy about you showing up.”

 

“To put it mildly,” Jim agreed dryly. “Here we are.” He turned to the medics. “This way.”

 

Jim had no trouble finding the wounded, including Blair, all of whom had been moved into one of the few remaining tents. Someone had already splinted Blair’s ankle, and Jim made a beeline to his side.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

 

Blair was pale, but clearly relieved when he saw Jim in one piece. “I’m fine, man. They gave me something for the pain. How are _you_? Colonel Edwards said he’d heard from you, but he didn’t say anything else.”

 

Jim patted Blair on the shoulder. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

 

The camp’s medic stopped by Blair’s bed. “He’ll need a cast, and maybe surgery,” she said. “I can’t tell without X-rays, but you’d better call in an orthopedic surgeon.”

 

Blair’s expression of dismay was almost comical, although Jim didn’t so much as crack a smile. “Surgery? I can’t be out of commission that long!”

 

“We’ll figure it out, Chief,” Jim promised. “Don’t worry.” He looked at the medic, who had a lieutenant’s insignia and a nametag that read “Kwan.” “How many casualties?”

 

“Captain Stranger has a concussion, and we’ve got one dead, one other in serious condition. I’m sending them back first, and then Dr. Sandburg can go.” Lieutenant Kwan gave Blair a sympathetic look. “Sorry, sir, but I think you’re going to be out of commission for a while.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, buddy,” Jim said. “Sit tight. We’re going to see what else we can do around camp. You okay here?”

 

Blair nodded glumly. “I’ll live.”

 

“Did you kill the attacking Jaffa, Major Ellison?” Teal’c asked as they left the tent.

 

Jim shrugged. “Two death gliders, and about half the contingent they sent, I guess. I just wanted to be sure everybody in the camp would be safe.”

 

To Jim’s relief, neither Sam nor Teal’c commented on what he’d done beyond that. Colonel Edwards was shouting directions to his people, directing cleanup.

 

“Colonel Edwards,” Sam called. “We need to talk.”

 

Edwards scowled at her. “Please don’t tell me the SGC is shutting us down.”

 

“They’re evacuating for now,” Sam replied, in a conciliatory way that had even Edwards’ expression softening a bit. “They’ll reevaluate when they’re sure the Goa’uld won’t come back.”

 

“The Goa’uld are unpredictable,” Edwards replied. “But it’s better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

 

“Always better to be safe than sorry,” Sam agreed.

 

Edwards nodded, a keen disappointment in his eyes. “I understand. I’ll get the evacuation started. Do we need to remove all the equipment?”

 

Sam shook her head. “Not yet. We’ll keep a remote monitoring system in place.”

 

Edwards began shouting orders again, this time to give the evacuation orders, and Sam turned to Jim. “Hey, you can sit with Blair if you want. We’re okay here.”

 

Jim paused, torn. “If you don’t mind.”

 

“No, go,” Sam replied. “I’ll grab you if we need you.”

 

“Thanks, Sam,” Jim said.

 

He went back to Blair and crouched down next to where Blair was stretched out, his splinted leg out in front of him. “Hey there.”

 

Blair kept his voice low. “You were okay out there?”

 

Jim shrugged. “I’m going to ask Doc Fraiser to look into it, but—when my adrenalin gets going, it’s better. It’s—it’s _easy_.”

 

“That’s good,” Blair assured him.

 

Jim shook his head, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening in.

 

“No one has your hearing, Jim,” Blair said in a low voice. “And nobody cares.”

 

“It’s not good, because it’s the _only_ time it works together,” Jim hissed. “It’s the only time I feel _normal_.”

 

Blair grimaced. “Okay. I take your point.”

 

Jim sighed. “It makes this job a little easier.”

 

“At least, if I can keep up with you,” Blair replied glumly. “Which won’t be for a while.”

 

“You’re my partner, remember?” Jim said. “That’s always going to be true, whether you’re laid up or not.”

 

Blair nodded. “Yeah, I know. Same here, right?”

 

Jim smiled. “I’ll stay here with you, if that’s okay.”

 

“Nowhere else I’d rather you be,” Blair admitted.

 

They chatted about inconsequential things, about the next home improvement project, and whether they ought to repaint the basement, and what color. Blair advocated for something “interesting,” but Jim wanted blue or grey. They were negotiating a compromise when Lieutenant Kwan said, “They’re ready to transport Dr. Sandburg through the gate, sir.”

 

“Thanks, Lieutenant,” Jim said. “I’ll help if I can.”

 

“I’m sure the paramedics will appreciate the break, sir,” Lieutenant Kwan replied with a smile. “Thank you.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Blair protested.

 

Jim glared at him. “Don’t even start with me, Sandburg.”

 

“Never,” Blair replied with his hands up.

 

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Jim replied. He hefted one end of Blair’s stretcher without complaint, and maybe they’d done something to him on this front, too, but Jim didn’t even feel the burden as they carried Blair to the gate.

 

Dr. Fraiser was waiting for them on the other side, directing traffic with the kind of tone that would have put Jim’s first drill sergeant to shame. “And I want Dr. Sandburg in X-ray as soon as possible.”

 

Jim let the medical staff take the stretcher from him. “I’ll see you later, Chief,” he said, and then he waited around until the rest of the wounded came through. “Look, Doc, I need you to do something for me.”

 

Janet frowned at him. “I’m a little busy right now.”

 

“I just need you to take a blood sample,” Jim explained. “I didn’t—it was different. I reacted differently. The senses didn’t act up at all. I just—”

 

“I’ll do a full workup,” Janet promises. “You’d get a standard post-op medical exam anyway, but I’ll dig a little deeper.” She smiled at him. “You know, I think you’re the first person in the SGC to actually _ask_ me to look them over.”

 

Jim smiled. “Only you, doc.”

 

“Good thing you’re stuck with me,” Janet replied. “Head to the infirmary, Major.”

 

Jim patiently waited for the nurse to take a couple of vials of blood, and for the attending physician to clear him so that he could go find Blair. He was still waiting when O’Neill showed up in front of him.

 

“So, I hear that you took on two death gliders and a dozen Jaffa all by your lonesome,” O’Neill said, rocking back on his heels.

 

Jim straightened. “I only took out seven, sir.”

 

“Not including the gliders.”

 

Jim nodded. “Not including them, no.”

 

“Is there a reason you went off on your own like that?” O’Neill asked mildly.

 

Jim could hear the hidden danger in O’Neill’s tone. “Sandburg had an injured ankle, and Stranger had a concussion,” Jim replied. “Colonel Edwards had his hands full sorting out the camp, and I wasn’t sure if anybody would be able to keep up with me. I had the element of surprise, and I informed Colonel Edwards of my intentions.”

 

“Oh, Edwards is impressed,” O’Neill admitted. “I probably don’t have to tell you how rare that is.”

 

Jim stared at a spot on the wall just beyond O’Neill’s shoulder. “No, sir.”

 

“I guess the better question is whether you thought it was a suicide mission,” O’Neill continued.

 

Jim stared at him in shock. “Sir?”

 

“I’ve seen men—and women—seek out a fight when they’re outnumbered twelve to one, but usually only when there’s no choice, or they don’t mind dying,” O’Neill replied. “Which is it, Ellison?”

 

Jim frowned. “May I speak frankly, sir?”

 

“By all means,” O’Neill replied, a little sarcastically.

 

“They weren’t impossible odds for _me_ ,” Jim replied. “I knew where each of them was at any given moment. I could hear them, and I could smell them, and that’s how I tracked them down.” Jim shrugged. “Once they reached the camp, the confusion would only help them reach their objective, whatever that was. I made the tactical decision that it would be better if none of them ever did. I’m only sorry that a few slipped through.”

 

“Contrary to what you might think, you’re just one man,” O’Neill replied dryly. “What if, say, Teal’c had been there?”

 

Jim didn’t have to think about the question. “Teal’c knows what I can do, and he would be able to keep up. It was clear that Colonel Edwards didn’t believe your report. I couldn’t trust anybody there to follow my lead, other than my team, and I felt it best for McConnell to guard the wounded.”

 

“And if Sandburg hadn’t been injured?”

 

“I wouldn’t have been able to leave him behind if I had tried,” Jim admitted.

 

O’Neill sighed. “All right. We’ll have a debriefing tomorrow, where I imagine you’ll say pretty much the same thing, and you’ll be congratulated on a job well done. You may wind up with a medal after this.”

 

 “I didn’t do anything special!” Jim protested.

 

O’Neill raised his eyebrows. “ _That_ wasn’t anything special?”

 

Jim hadn’t wanted to get into this with anybody, but he didn’t seem to have much of a choice at the moment. “Whatever—whatever they did to me, I function better in the field than I do at home. I asked Dr. Fraiser to do some more tests.”

 

“So, you’re saying what would be extraordinary for someone else isn’t for you,” O’Neill said.

 

“That’s about it.”

 

O’Neill smirked. “We’ll take that into consideration when assigning you missions in the future, but Ellison, what you can do is extraordinary, any way you cut it, and we like to encourage that sort of behavior. At least so long as you’re not _trying_ to get yourself killed.” He made a point of checking his watch. “Go check on Sandburg, and then go home and get some sleep. Be back here at 0900 tomorrow for a debriefing.”

 

Jim didn’t need to be told twice; he went off in search of his partner and found him holding a spirited discussion with Fraiser.

 

“I understand that you want to go home, but I’m not releasing you, and you can’t leave AMA,” Fraiser insisted. “That’s not how things work around here.”

 

“She’s the boss,” Jim said with amusement. “What seems to be the problem?”

 

Blair scowled. “They want to get a second opinion as to whether I need surgery.”

 

“Your ankle was fractured, but the ligaments in your ankle were also strained,” Fraiser said patiently. “You need an MRI, but it’s late, and the specialist won’t be here until tomorrow afternoon, so you’re just going to have to sit tight.”

 

Jim sympathized with Blair’s frustration, but when it came to Blair’s health and well being, he was of the opinion that it was better to be safe than sorry. “I’ll bring your laptop and some books tomorrow morning,” he promised. “You need to rest up.”

 

Blair heaved a sigh. “You going to be okay on your own tonight?”

 

Jim rolled his eyes. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

And for the most part, Jim _was_ fine, but then he woke up at 3 am from a nightmare where Blair had been killed, and he cast about wildly for the sound of Blair’s heartbeat.

 

The silence of the house seemed to echo, and it took a long time for Jim to remember that Blair was back at the SGC, laid up in the infirmary.

 

His head pounded, and Jim took deep breaths, trying to steady himself, and not having much luck.

 

Jim suspected this wasn’t going to be a great day.

 

~~~~~

 

Word of Jim’s exploits had already burned through the SGC like wildfire. From experience, Sam knew there were few secrets on the base, and a story like this one captured the imagination. She’d also started to hear whispers about Jim’s time in Peru, and she suspected that by the end of the week, everyone in the mountain would know of Jim’s abilities.

 

Thankfully, a memo had already gone out, warning everybody that Jim’s capture by the Trust was considered top secret, as was his identity. There was always the possibility of a mole, of course, but there was only so much they could do to ensure the security of the base, and the information.

 

Sam’s presence at the briefing wasn’t required, so she went to check up on Blair in the infirmary, only to discover that he was out for more tests. She ended up spending the morning in her lab, emerging for a late lunch, and when she didn’t see anyone from her team, went back to work.

 

When she emerged late that afternoon, she happened to walk past the infirmary and found Jim standing outside in the hallway, leaning against the wall, a forlorn expression on his face.

 

“Jim?” Sam called.

 

He shook himself and smiled. “Hey, Sam. I was just thinking about finding you. I thought you might want to grab dinner tonight.”

 

“I’d like that,” she admitted. “How’s Blair?”

 

Jim sighed. “The doc wants to keep him one more night, to ensure that he doesn’t put any weight on his ankle.”

 

“I’m sure Blair will make a full recovery,” Sam replied, touching his arm. “Janet is pretty good about telling people when they need to worry.”

 

Jim shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s just—never mind

 

“You can tell me,” she urged.

 

Jim hesitated. “The house is really quiet.”

 

With Jim’s extraordinary senses, that was probably even truer, Sam thought. And now that she was looking a little more closely, she could see how tired Jim looked.

 

“Why don’t you stay with me tonight?” she suggested on impulse.

 

She and Jim had gone on a few dates, but he’d never pushed to stay over, and she hadn’t asked, content to let things unfold as they would.

 

But right now, she sensed that Jim didn’t want to be alone, and she was happy to oblige.

 

“You don’t have to,” Jim protested.

 

“Come over,” she said. “I’ll order pizza.”

 

Jim smiled. “Why don’t I cook? I have to pick up some clean clothes anyway. I’ll grab a few things from the store while I’m at it.”

 

“Sure,” Sam replied with a grin. “I never say no to a home cooked meal.”

 

She headed home and cleaned things up a bit, changing into a skirt and t-shirt, even freshening up her makeup.

 

She was surprised at the call she got from O’Neill about twenty minutes after she’d gotten home. “Yes, sir?” she said when he identified himself.

 

“I wanted to see you wanted to come out for a beer and pizza with Teal’c and Daniel and me,” he said. “Teal’c will probably insist on watching _Star Wars_ again.”

 

Sam flushed. “I’m actually expecting company, sir.”

 

She could hear him smirking over the phone. “Hot date, Carter?”

 

“Jim is coming over,” she admitted. “Dr. Fraiser is keeping Blair another night, and—” She stopped, realizing that was probably too much information to give to her CO, no matter how close they might be.

 

There was a long, poignant pause. “Ellison is a good guy,” O’Neill finally replied. “You two have fun.”

 

“Thank you,” she replied, swallowing hard. “Good night, sir.”

 

“’Night, Carter,” he said, his tone gentle.

 

When Jim appeared fifteen minutes later, he began apologizing. “Sorry, we didn’t have everything I needed at home, so I—you okay?” he asked, changing directions mid-thought.

 

She smiled. “I’m fine.”

 

He frowned. “Because it looks like someone just walked over your grave.”

 

Sam had no idea how much Jim had heard about her relationship with O’Neill, or if it even mattered, but if they were going to take their relationship to the next level, maybe she should explain a little bit.

 

“Colonel O’Neill just called me,” she admitted. “Apparently, it’s team bonding night.”

 

Jim jerked his head at the door. “I can leave if you’d rather do that. I know this is—”

 

Sam took his face in her hands and brought his mouth down to hers for a long, intense kiss. “That’s not it.”

 

Jim smiled a little uncertainly. “Then what?”

 

“Have you heard any rumors about me on base?” Sam asked, leading him into the kitchen.

 

Jim shrugged and tapped his ear. “Hard not to, but I don’t pay any attention to gossip.”

 

“A lot of scuttlebutt has at least a grain of truth,” Sam pointed out.

 

“And what’s the grain?” Jim asked, his voice gentle.

 

Sam smiled. “It’s the sort of thing that can ruin careers, or at least get one of us transferred off SG-1.”

 

Jim was a smart guy, and it didn’t take him more than a couple of seconds to fill in the blanks. “I see.”

 

“And I told Colonel O’Neill what I—what _we_ —were doing tonight, and he said you were a good guy, and that we should have fun,” Sam added.

 

Jim grimaced. “Yeah, that’s—maybe a little awkward.” He handed her a bottle of red wine. “That should probably breathe for a while if you want to open it.” She opened the bottle while Jim pulled ingredients out of the paper sack. “Is there anything else I should know? Any landmines to avoid?” Jim asked.

 

Sam winced. “My dad happens to be both a general and a Tok’ra.”

 

Jim stared at her incredulously, and then he began to chuckle. “Well, that makes things more interesting for sure.”

 

“Last chance to back out,” Sam warned playfully.

 

Jim shook his head. “I think I should be the one saying that. I’m not the easiest guy to be with, Sam.”

 

“Neither am I,” she admitted. “How about we just enjoy one another’s company and let the chips fall where they may?”

 

“I can do that,” Jim agreed. “I hope pasta is okay.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

The evening was enjoyable, and by the time they’d finished off the bottle of wine between them, Sam had forgotten the earlier awkwardness with O’Neill, and Jim’s hand had found the sliver of skin between the waistband of her skirt and the hem of her t-shirt. She felt flushed with alcohol and with pleasure, and she leaned in to kiss him.

 

They kissed leisurely, the heat slowly building between them. Jim pulled her astride his hips, and Sam reached down to pull his t-shirt off over his head.

 

He’d put on weight over the last couple of months, although his frame was still spare. Sam ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms.

 

Jim pushed his hands under her shirt, and Sam let him pull it off over her head. “I feel it’s only fair to warn you that it’s been awhile.”

 

“For me, too,” Sam admitted. “Longer than I want to admit.”

 

“Then let’s just take it slow, huh?” Jim suggested.

 

They stayed just like that, Jim’s mouth tracing the line of her neck and her collarbone as he ran his hands over her bare back and her ass. Eventually, Jim worked one hand under her skirt, rubbing the inside of her thigh, giving her time to say no. “This working for you?” he asked hoarsely.

 

“Yes,” she said. “Please.”

 

He was rubbing her through her underwear, and Sam was beginning to think she should suggest moving things to the bedroom when her neighbor’s car alarm went off.

 

Sam barely noticed the noise, but Jim’s reaction was instantaneous. He gave a cry of pain and clapped both hands over his ears.

 

She was lost enough in the haze of sensations that it took her a minute to gather herself in order to even attempt to comfort Jim.

 

“Jim, it’s okay. It’s just the car alarm,” Sam assured him, remembering how Blair had dealt with Jim’s reaction to the gate alarm right after he’d been rescued. She put her hands over his, and pressed her forehead against his. “It’s okay.”

 

Jim took one deep breath and then two, and then finally opened his eyes, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What a mood killer, huh?”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Sam assured him.

 

Jim tipped his head back against the cushions. “Yeah, it’s funny. Put me in the middle of a firefight, and I fire on all cylinders. But real life? A car alarm half a block away is enough to take me down.”

 

Sam felt a little exposed, wearing nothing but her skirt, and she sighed, sensing that they wouldn’t be taking things any further tonight. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go to bed. Just to sleep.”

 

Jim nodded, rubbing his eyes, and then he met her eyes, a grim set to his mouth. “If I’m dreaming, don’t touch me,” he warned. “The nightmares have been pretty bad since—”

 

Sam pressed a light kiss to his mouth. “Same goes for me.”

 

Jim gave her a relieved, grateful look. “Thanks.”

 

For Jim’s sake, she hoped for a restful night.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack had to admit to a certain amount of morbid curiosity where it concerned Carter and Ellison. He wanted her to be happy, and while he wished she could be happy with _him_ , that wasn’t possible.

 

So, it looked like Ellison was getting a chance, and while Jack liked the guy, he didn’t know what to think about him and Carter together.

 

That was why Jack was doing everything in his power _not_ to think about it when he got paged to go to the briefing room. Ellison was there, as was Sandburg, with his bad leg propped on a chair, and Dr. Fraiser.

 

“Have a seat, Colonel,” Hammond said. “We were just discussing the best use for Major Ellison’s talents while Mr. Sandburg is laid up.”

 

O’Neill grimaced sympathetically. “How long, Sandburg?”

 

“Eight weeks,” Sandburg replied grimly.

 

“Try twelve,” Fraiser said. “Eight in the cast, and then probably another month for the ligaments to fully heal, although it might be longer.”

 

Sandburg looked even more dejected, but Hammond said, “I imagine you’ll have your dissertation finished and defended by the end of that time.”

 

“Oh, easily, sir,” Sandburg replied. “But this is going to make it really hard to back Jim up.”

 

Hammond nodded. “That’s why I asked Dr. Fraiser to join us. It’s come to my attention that you asked Dr. Fraiser to do more tests after this last mission, Major Ellison.”

 

Ellison nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ve always responded well under pressure, but this mission felt different to me.”

 

“Dr. Fraiser?” Hammond prompted.

 

Fraiser glanced at Ellison, as though ensuring she had his permission, and then she said, “Major Ellison’s blood tests showed levels of adrenalin and cortisol far above what we would expect, even after battlefield conditions. What’s more, he appears to metabolize those chemicals faster than the average person.”

 

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Sandburg asked. “Studies on prolonged exposure to heightened levels of stress hormones have suggested that they could have a negative impact on long term health.”

 

Fraiser glanced at him, clearly amused. “I wasn’t quite there yet, Blair.”

 

“Sorry,” Blair replied.

 

“So what?” Jack asked bluntly. “Obviously, if Sandburg’s right, it would be bad, but what does it mean right now?”

 

Fraiser sighed. “We still don’t know everything that was done to Major Ellison, or what the original intent was. I can’t tell you whether this was by accident or design, but I can say that the major’s heightened senses will probably always work best when his system is flooded with stress hormones. His reflexes will be faster than normal, and he’ll have impressive strength under battlefield conditions.”

 

For some reason, that had Ellison shifting uncomfortably in his chair, but all he said was, “It also means that I can function in the field without Sandburg.”

 

“What about in a rescue situation?” Jack asked. “Plenty of adrenalin there.”

 

“I believe the same could be true for any situation where lives are in danger,” Fraiser responded. “But we won’t know that until faced with those exact circumstances.”

 

Hammond nodded. “I see. Major Ellison, what’s your preference?”

 

“I want to be of use, sir,” Jim replied steadily. “Wherever that might be.”

 

Sandburg didn’t protest, although he looked slightly mutinous.

 

“I’ll give it some thought,” Hammond promised. “Dismissed. Colonel, please stay.”

 

O’Neill kept his seat and watched as Fraiser bustled out, while Ellison matched Sandburg’s slow pace on crutches.

 

“What do you think?” Hammond asked.

 

Jack shook his head. “I asked Sandburg not long ago if I should send Ellison out in the field without him, and he said absolutely not, but Ellison did just fine this last time.”

 

“Special circumstances?” Hammond suggested.

 

“I don’t think so,” O’Neill admitted. “My problem with this is that I don’t want to end up throwing Ellison at any problem we can’t solve. That strategy is going to get him killed sooner or later.”

 

Hammond shook his head. “I won’t send Major Ellison into danger any more or less often than I send you, Colonel, but Dr. Fraiser’s point is well taken. How’s he done otherwise?”

 

Jack thought about it. “He was good with the kids on the range, but it was harder on him than he wanted to admit. Teal’c was impressed with his fighting skills, but that probably has to do with his reflexes and strength.”

 

“You realize that Dr. Fraiser basically described the perfect soldier,” Hammond pointed out soberly. “If the Trust knew the extent of their success…”

 

Jack could fill in the blanks for himself. “I think we should highlight Ellison’s prior service record in Peru,” he said. “Ellison acted like a one-man army for 18 months in the jungle. Let everybody think that nothing changed, and he’s always been that good.”

 

Hammond nodded. “I agree. I’ll also have Dr. Fraiser store Major Ellison’s medical files on a secure server, separate from other medical records in case someone comes looking for them.”

 

“What are we going to do with Ellison in the meantime?” O’Neill asked.

 

Hammond sighed. “With Mr. Sandburg and Captain Stranger out of commission, Major Ellison doesn’t have his own team, and any team he joins needs to understand his capabilities and be able to keep up with him.”

 

Jack grinned slowly. “Isn’t SG-3 scheduled for recon on one of the known Goa’uld worlds? They’re short one person. Someone with Ellison’s abilities would probably be useful. Besides, if he rotates among teams, everyone will get a taste for what he can do.”

 

Hammond nodded. “Good idea, Colonel. Let’s see how that works.”

 

~~~~~

 

Blair insisted on riding to the mountain with Jim the next day, even though he wasn’t cleared for duty. Jim was slated to go off-world with SG-3 to on a Goa’uld controlled planet, mostly just to do recon. Blair might not be able to go with him, but he could be on hand if Jim needed him.

 

“You could be resting at home, you know,” Jim pointed out.

 

“There’s better internet at the base,” Blair reasoned. “And if you need me, I’ll be close.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Jim insisted.

 

Blair gripped the door as they went over a nasty pothole. “I hope you will be, honestly, but just in case.”

 

“Just in case,” Jim agreed. “Just promise me you’ll ask for help if you need it.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Blair replied, waving off Jim’s concern. “Same goes for you.”

 

Jim shrugged. “I’ve got to come back, don’t I?”

 

“Yeah, you do,” Blair replied.

 

Jim nodded and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry so much.”

 

“I’ll worry if I want to,” Blair retorted. “You disappear for two and a half months, I get to worry as much as I want.”

 

Jim raised an eyebrow. “You can’t keep using that, Blair.”

 

Blair gave him a blatantly insincere smile. “I can use it whenever I need to.”

 

“So you say,” Jim teased. “I promise, I will tell someone if I’m having trouble, and I will come back through the gate if it gets too bad.”

 

“Good,” Blair replied. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

 

“Let’s get moving,” Jim said. “Being late leaves the wrong impression.”

 

Blair spent the morning working on his dissertation, checking all his sources, and going over all the data again. He had yet to add the information from the Trust’s sadistic doctors, mostly because he just couldn’t face it. He’d read the report, but he hadn’t delved into the data, which he’d need to do if he was going to include it in his dissertation.

 

And it really ought to be included.

 

He was still tweaking the footnotes when he heard a rap on the doorframe, and Sam poked her head into the office he shared with three others, none of whom ever seemed to be around.

 

“Hey, you ready to get lunch?” she asked.

 

Blair raised his eyebrows. “Let me guess, Jim put you up to this.”

 

“He thought you might have a hard time dealing with a lunch tray on crutches,” Sam replied, “so I’m here to help.”

 

Blair hit save. “Yeah, I could use a break.”

 

“How’s it coming?” Sam asked.

 

Blair shrugged. “It’s coming, although I’ve hit something of a block.”

 

“What’s that?” she asked.

 

Blair hesitated, unsure whether he should share with her. “I need to include the data from when Jim was captured, and I haven’t been able to make myself look at it again.”

 

Sam grimaced. “I don’t blame you.”

 

Blair swung himself along next to Sam. “If I can just get through this, I’ll be able to finish it, but—”

 

“Take it in small chunks,” Sam advised. “It’s going to be unpleasant, and you’re going to want to break things. Just don’t break government equipment. They frown on that.”

 

Blair smiled, the expression without humor. “I feel like I’m betraying him.”

 

Sam gave him a sympathetic look. “I can’t help you with that, I’m afraid.”

 

“It’s okay,” Blair said. “I’ll get it done. Mind if we change the subject?”

 

“By all means,” Sam said. “What would you like to talk about?”

 

“What are you working on?” Blair asked.

 

She laughed. “You know, that’s usually what Jim says to distract me.”

 

Blair shrugged. “What can I say? I taught him everything he knows.”

 

Sam began talking about her most recent project, trying to increase the output on the naquadah generator, and while Blair didn’t understand half of what was coming out of her mouth, he could see that she was excited about it.

 

Blair had dated more than a few science majors in his day, including a couple of physicists, but Sam’s knowledge was way beyond a couple of entry level classes. Still, it wasn’t like he was trying to impress her, and trying to keep up with her explanation kept his mind off the work waiting for him.

 

Daniel joined them about halfway through lunch, and the conversation turned to the current exhibits at the Denver Art Museum, which Daniel had seen but Sam and Blair hadn’t.

 

“Do you think Jim would go?” Sam asked.

 

Blair shrugged. “He might. He’s surprisingly versatile.”

 

He felt a little odd talking about Jim without him around—especially to Jim’s girlfriend—but Sam was Blair’s friend as well, and he wasn’t lying. Jim had gone to art exhibits with Blair before, and a few of his girlfriends who had been into that sort of thing. And Jim and Sam had a lot of interests in common.

 

“I’ll bet if you suggested a ride up to Denver, Jim will jump at the chance,” Blair said.

 

Sam grinned. “Thanks for the suggestion.” She glanced at Daniel, who nodded, and Sam said apologetically, “I have to go. Blair, if you need anything, let one of us know, okay?”

 

Daniel kept his seat, asking, “How are you holding up?”

 

Blair shrugged. “I’m fine.”

 

“Because I think I’d be going crazy,” Daniel said conversationally, as though Blair hadn’t said anything. “You know, if one of my team disappeared for months, and then got sent off on a mission without me.”

 

Blair glared at him. “You’re determined to make me talk about my feelings, aren’t you?”

 

“You don’t have to talk about your feelings,” Daniel replied. “I’m just saying.”

 

Blair rubbed his eyes. “Jim is off with SG-3, doing recon, and I’m trying to finish my dissertation, which is supposed to include the information that the Trust gathered.”

 

Daniel grimaced. “That sucks.”

 

Blair picked at the remains of his lunch. “It’s probably a good thing that Jim isn’t around while I’m trying to incorporate it, but—”

 

The silence hung for a long few moments, and then Daniel said, “Come read it in my office. At least you won’t be alone.”

 

Blair felt a tremendous sense of relief, thinking that it might be marginally easier to read the Trust’s reports with someone in the room—and it couldn’t be Jim. “Really? Thanks.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Daniel replied. “It’s no big deal. Grab what you need and hang out with me.”

 

Blair nodded. “Thanks.”

 

Daniel shrugged. “No skin off my nose. Leave the dishes, get your things, and meet me in my office.”

 

Blair didn’t need another invitation, and he did just that, using Daniel’s computer while Daniel went over photographs from what might be Ancient ruins to determine their authenticity and possibly translate the inscriptions.

 

He got through the first two weeks of entries only because they never referred to Jim by name, and just called him “the subject.” Still, that was as far as he got before he had to walk away from the computer to avoid combusting with rage.

 

“Do you know any Latin?” Daniel asked after Blair had taken a lot of deep breaths and poured himself a cup of coffee.

 

Blair took a deep breath. “Not as much as I probably should.”

 

“Are you interested in learning?” Daniel asked. “I’d like to have a backup who knows Ancient.”

 

Blair suspected that there were others besides Daniel who knew Ancient, but he appreciated the distraction. “I’m ready to learn.”

 

~~~~~

 

Jim came back through the gate exhausted, with a pounding headache that threatened to turn into a migraine, but with the knowledge that he could go on a mission without Blair, and without being shot at, and be okay.

 

Well, mostly okay. He wasn’t sure how long he’d have been able to stay out there, but he’d handled it.

 

He submitted to the post-mission medical without letting on to the headache, and headed for the showers, wanting to wash off the grime of an alien world.

 

Jim leaned against the tile, letting the hot water pound the back of his neck, easing the tension somewhat, and a couple of voices caught his attention when he heard his name.

 

Almost unwillingly, he tuned into the conversation, hearing, “No way. Not Ellison.”

 

“Come on, he lives with that fairy, Sandburg.”

 

“And he’s dating _Major Sam Carter_ ,” came the rejoinder. “The way I hear it, Ellison and Sandburg were partners when they were on the police force. They were tight.”

 

Jim heard the snort. “And nobody thought to ask if they were hot for each other?”

 

“Who the fuck cares? Ellison is a fucking magician, and they’re saying he’s going to be up for a medal after that thing with Edwards. And if he’s dating Carter, where he sticks his dick is more her business than yours.”

 

Whoever they were, they left soon after that, and Jim stayed in the shower for a long time, letting the hot water sluice over him.

 

He’d known it was a risk, living with Blair, but he’d hoped that everyone would chalk it up to two guys wanting to hang onto the familiar and sharing expenses. And maybe that was what most people were thinking, but rumors were an ugly thing.

 

And Jim couldn’t afford to be cut lose from the SGC; neither could Blair, especially if the Trust found out that they’d been at least partially successful.

 

The thing was, there was nothing that Jim could or would do differently. He’d keep dating Sam because he liked her, and he wanted something normal, but he needed Blair to stay close.

 

Eventually, he emerged from the locker room, the headache still threatening as he went to find Blair.

 

Jim didn’t have to try very hard; he could pick Blair’s heartbeat out of a crowd, and he followed that sound to Daniel’s lab, where they were bent over a book.

 

“Hey,” Jim said.

 

Blair looked up with a blinding grin. “Hey. How’d it go?”

 

Jim shrugged. “Okay. I think I need to learn Goa’uld, or whatever it is the Jaffa speak.”

 

Daniel nodded. “I can teach you, or you can ask Teal’c. I’m sure he’d be happy to give you lessons.”

 

“I’ll ask him,” Jim said. “If he can’t, I’ll come back.”

 

“I’m happy to help,” Daniel offered. “Whatever works.”

 

“You ready to go?” Blair asked.

 

Jim nodded. “Yeah, if you are.”

 

“Let’s go home,” Blair replied. “See you tomorrow, Daniel?”

 

“Sure thing,” Daniel said. “Join me any time.”’

 

Jim led the way out, passing his keys to Blair once they were through the checkpoint. “You mind driving?”

 

“Headache?”

 

Jim shrugged. “Maybe a migraine.”

 

“That have anything to do with wanting to learn Goa’uld?” Blair asked.

 

Jim leaned back against the seat. “Turns out that listening to a conversation a mile or so away takes a lot out of a guy,” he admitted. “It would be easier if I didn’t have to rely on someone else to translate.”

 

“But you were okay?”

 

Jim sighed. “What do you want me to say, Chief? Would it have been easier if you were there? Yeah, it would have been. But you couldn’t be there, and I had to manage, which is exactly what I’ll have to do for the next few months.”

 

He felt bad as soon as the words left his lips and said, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Hey, don’t apologize,” Blair said immediately. “I totally get it. You hungry?”

 

Jim’s stomach twisted in such a way to tell him that food was a really bad idea. “No.”

 

“Did you eat lunch?” Blair asked.

 

Jim tried to rein in his irritation. Blair was just looking out for him; it wasn’t Blair’s fault that he had a raging headache, or that he’d overheard a conversation speculating about his sex life. And it wasn’t Blair’s fault that Jim needed him so much, or that he couldn’t risk getting kicked out of the military.

 

“I had a power bar,” he finally admitted through gritted teeth. “Look, I’ll try to eat something tonight, but I can’t right now.”

 

Blair glanced over at him, but Jim closed his eyes, refusing to look at Blair in what was probably a childish gesture. “Okay,” Blair agreed softly. “Whatever you need.”

 

And Jim clenched his hands tightly, because he didn’t even know what he needed anymore.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack finished the latest mission report from SG-14, a survey team that had been ordered to check out rumors of a planet that had a large supply of naquadah, with the intention of starting another mining operation. On paper, everything had gone according to plan; privately, Lieutenant Colonel Danvers had expressed concern for Major Ellison.

 

“I certainly can’t complain about his performance, sir,” Danvers had said. “It was just that I could tell he wasn’t doing great. I didn’t want to put it in the report, because it’s just a gut feeling, but I know when someone on my team is having a rough time.”

 

Jack was pretty sure that Ellison had been having “a rough time” for months now, ever since the Trust captured him, but there wasn’t much he could do for the man. Ellison was still performing well, and Sandburg was still out of commission, and would be for at least another month or so.

 

And given what Dr. Fraiser had said about Ellison’s response to adrenalin, he wasn’t going to be feeling good unless he was getting shot at, or was in some other kind of danger.

 

Bottom line, Ellison was a problem without an easy solution, and yet someone whose skills the SGC couldn’t afford to waste.

 

On the other hand, as of yesterday, SG-5 was down one man, and they had a tendency to find trouble. As a temporary fix, that might work.

 

Jack sent an email to Hammond to that effect and stretched, pouring a cup of coffee and wandering down to Daniel’s lab. “What’s going on, Danny?” he asked.

 

Daniel glanced up from his computer. “Nothing. What’s going on with you?”

 

“Nothin’,” Jack replied.

 

“So, you came all the way down here to bug me?”

 

“I have a problem with no good solution,” Jack admitted. “Therefore, I’m bugging you.”

 

Daniel raised his eyebrows. “You couldn’t go annoy Sam?”

 

“I could, but she said something about leaving a little early for a date,” Jack admitted.

 

Daniel smirked. “She seems to be getting serious with Jim.”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” Jack replied. “Speaking of, what do _you_ know?”

 

Daniel shrugged. “Jim’s been taking lessons in Goa’uld from me and Teal’c,” he replied. “And I know he’s been sparring with Teal’c.”

 

“That’s the talk of the base,” Jack replied sourly.

 

Daniel shrugged. “I think it’s the only time Jim feels normal.” He shook his head. “Can you imagine? The Trust wanted a super soldier, and it looks like they got one. Or we did.”

 

Jack didn’t want to imagine. “Danvers said he thought Ellison might be having a hard time.”

 

“Blair said something to that effect,” Daniel replied. “I think he’s better when he’s with Blair or even Teal’c.”

 

“Or when he’s getting shot at,” Jack said and held in a sigh. “You want to get something to eat?”

 

“Do you mind if Blair joins us?” Daniel asked. “I told him I’d drag him out of his office about now, since Jim was going out tonight.”

 

Jack did mind, but he wasn’t going to say that, since it would seem downright unfriendly. “The more the merrier.”

 

Sandburg was in his office, his head buried in his hands, shoulders slumped, the very picture of dejection.

 

“Blair,” Daniel called, his voice gentle. “You want to grab a drink?”

 

Sandburg looked up, clearing his throat before dredging up a smile. “I’d take two or three, actually.”

 

“How long have you been at this?” Daniel asked.

 

Sandburg shrugged. “All afternoon. The good news is that I think the dissertation will be done by the time I’m ready to go back in the field again.”

 

“That’s great!” Daniel said. “Did you get a chance to read that article I sent you?”

 

Jack resigned himself to listening to geek talk all evening, but he was pleasantly surprised once they got to the bar. Jack ordered a pitcher and a platter of wings, and by the time Sandburg had one beer in him, he was telling stories of his travels around the world.

 

Sandburg was interesting, Jack would give the kid that much, and he’d been a lot of places; he could certainly tell a good tale, even if he hadn’t done half of what he said.

 

Somehow, Jack believed him.

 

“So, then I fall face-first into the mud,” Sandburg said with a grin. “Which convinced them that I wasn’t really a threat, because demons aren’t that clumsy.”

 

Jack laughed appreciatively, as did Daniel.

 

“But what about you guys?” Sandburg asked. “You must have seen a few things, have a few stories.”

 

Jack shrugged, because he couldn’t think of a story that didn’t involve somebody dying right off the top of his head, but Daniel told one about his childhood in Egypt, before his parents had died, and Jack learned something he hadn’t known before.

 

And that felt surprisingly good.

 

~~~~~

 

“Jim! Come on, come back,” Sam said, hearing the desperation in her voice.

 

She wondered how an evening could go from really good to really bad so quickly. She’d still been high on endorphins from her first orgasm—Jim had very clever hands—and had been well on her way to a second one when Jim went still and silent underneath her.

 

She’d seen him zone before, but Blair had been around both times, and he’d pulled Jim out of it fairly quickly. Sam tried to replicate Blair’s methods, calling Jim’s name, rubbing his arm, even patting him on the face, but nothing worked. His eyes were open and blank, his jaw slack—the lights were on but nobody was home.

 

After nearly ten minutes, Sam was getting worried enough to seriously consider calling Blair, even though she knew that would be embarrassing for all of them, and then decided that smell was the one sense she hadn’t tried to disrupt.

 

Jim was sensitive to strong odors and chemicals, so she hurried to the bathroom for the bottle of Pine-Sol, knowing that it was a risk, but with no idea what else to try.

 

She passed the open bottle under Jim’s nose a couple of times, and he pulled in a deep, startled breath and immediately started coughing. Sam capped the bottle and put it on the floor, and when she turned back towards Jim, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to her.

 

Sam pulled on the robe hanging over the footboard and sat next to him, leaving a couple of inches between them, uncertain as to whether he’d want human contact.

 

Before she could say anything, Jim said, “Please don’t tell me it’s okay.”

 

Sam let out a breath. “All right.”

 

The silence hung between them for a long moment, and Jim finally dragged his hands over his face. “You deserve better, Sam.”

 

Sam tried to remember that losing her temper was not going to do either of them any good. “So do you,” she said evenly.

 

He gave her an incredulous look, his blue eyes narrowed. “You can’t possibly want this!”

 

“Please don’t tell me what I want, or don’t want,” she replied, a little heat in her voice. “We did all right last week.”

 

“Last week I was coming off an adrenalin high,” Jim retorted. “You know everything works better then.”

 

Sam’s lips curled up into a smile. “Your hands worked just fine tonight.”

 

She was relieved when he let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, well, I’ve always been good with my hands.”

 

They shared a grin at the innuendo, and then the mirth faded from Jim’s face. “I don’t think I’m going to get any better. I can’t—I can’t usually let go enough, and if I do—”

 

“We run into problems,” Sam acknowledged. “Look, this isn’t easy for me either. I’m off-world a lot, and on dangerous missions for a top secret military installation that technically doesn’t exist. There aren’t many people who understand that, or that I don’t have to lie to, and the one person I’ve been interested in in the last couple of years is completely off limits.”

 

Jim stared down at his hands. “O’Neill?”

 

“That’s not actually something I can talk about,” Sam reminded him.

 

Jim nodded slowly. “I’ve heard the rumors—about you, about me.”

 

“You and Blair?”

 

“It’s not like that,” Jim said quietly. “But there’s no way to explain what it _is_ like, and if anybody gets the wrong idea…”

 

“General Hammond wouldn’t do anything,” Sam objected.

 

“He wouldn’t, but he won’t always be in charge, will he?” Jim asked. “But that’s not—I like you a lot.”

 

She smiled and dared to rest her head on his bare shoulder. “I happen to like you a lot, too.”

 

He ran his fingers through her hair. “So, what now? Ball’s in your court, Sam. I’ve got nothing.”

 

“You’ve got a lot more than nothing,” she objected. “And why does anything have to change? We’re adults, we enjoy each other’s company. Unless you want to date other people—”

 

“Not a chance,” Jim said quickly. “Besides the obvious question of who would have me—no. I don’t want to date anybody else.”

 

She pressed her lips to his shoulder. “Then we keep seeing each other, and when the mood is right, we’ll take advantage—assuming we’re both on earth at the same time.”

 

He chuckled, and a little of the tension went out of him. “Friends with benefits?”

 

Sam shrugged. “I don’t care what we call it. Nothing has to change, Jim.”

 

Jim looked at her and shook his head. “Everything’s changed. I wish I could have known you before all this.”

 

“I like you now just fine,” Sam countered and leaned in for a kiss, keeping it light. “You want to sleep here tonight?”

 

Jim glanced at the clock. “Yeah, might as well. Blair isn’t expecting me.”

 

Sam was amused. “He keeps close tabs on you, huh?”

 

“He says that I’ll just have to put up with it after being missing for so long,” Jim replied with a good-natured shrug, grabbing his discarded boxers from the floor. “I hope you don’t mind.”

 

Sam shook her head. “No, I get it. You guys are close.”

 

“We’re used to spending almost every minute together,” Jim mused. “At least, we were. It’s different here, especially with Blair’s leg.”

 

“How much longer?”

 

“A few weeks or so.” Jim stretched out on the bed, and Sam lay next to him, her head on his shoulder. “Too long.” He put an arm around her. “This okay?”

 

“This is great,” Sam replied and closed her eyes, falling quickly asleep.

 

~~~~~

 

Jim scratched at his neck where the BDU shirt was starting to rub him raw and resolutely tried not to think about why the gate wasn’t working. It had only been four hours since their scheduled dial-in, but they’d been doing recon for two days, and Jim hadn’t slept much, or had a chance to get cleaned up.

 

“Ellison, you all right?” Major Warren called softly.

 

Jim shrugged. “I’m fine.”

 

Warren nodded. “I’m sure it’s just a glitch in the gate on the other end. The general hates to leave teams stranded, and he’ll get us home as soon as he can.”

 

Jim nodded and stayed alert, knowing that they were especially vulnerable if they couldn’t dial home. Warren had moved them away from the gate for the moment, and they were crouched on a ridge about 100 yards away, hidden by brush. The world was one known to be visited by the Goa’uld, and there was no sense advertising their presence if someone came through the gate. They’d been stuck for more than 24 hours past their gate time now.

 

To tell the truth, Jim wouldn’t mind if a contingent of Jaffa came through the gate; he’d probably feel better—not that he wanted anybody on his team to get hurt.

 

“I hate waiting,” Lieutenant Yi complained.

 

Jim glanced away to hide his smile. He’d heard the same complaint from plenty of recruits in the past.

 

“Waiting is the hardest part of the job, Yi,” Warren replied. “Getting shot at is relatively easier.”

 

“Getting shot is worse than waiting,” Sergeant Monroe inserted. “Trust me.”

 

“What about you, Major Ellison?” Yi asked. “Worst part.”

 

Jim couldn’t very well tell the kid the truth, so he said, “Getting shot, waiting, and getting shot at, in pretty much that order.” He paused and added, “Getting shot down, now—that’s the worst.”

 

Yi and Monroe chuckled, and Warren smiled. “I hear you haven’t been getting shot down lately, though. You and Major Carter, huh?”

 

Jim shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

 

“Beauty and brains,” Monroe said with an exaggerated sigh. “She’s amazing.”

 

Jim smirked. “Put your tongue back in your mouth, Monroe.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Monroe asked incredulously. “I wouldn’t have the balls to ask her for a date. Kudos to you.”

 

Jim gave him a real smile. “She’s pretty great, I’ll give you that.” He stiffened as he heard the gate activate. “We’ve got company.”

 

“Could just be the SGC calling to let us know the coast is clear,” Warren said, although he didn’t look convinced. “Can you hear anything?”

 

Jim shook his head. “Not yet.”

 

Yi and Monroe went on alert, falling silent and getting their weapons ready.

 

Jim had been taking lessons in Goa’uld with Teal’c and Daniel, and he’d been highly motivated to learn as much as he could. He figured he would be far less likely to get a headache if he could translate on his own, rather than trying to repeat foreign words for someone else and waiting for them to translate it.

 

Warren’s radio crackled. “Major Warren, status,” came Hammond’s distinctive voice.

 

“We’re sitting tight, sir.”

 

“You can dial home now,” Hammond replied. “We’ll fill you in when you get here.”

 

Jim felt vaguely disappointed that they hadn’t seen any action this trip, but at least with a shower and a night in his own bed, he might have a chance at getting rid of his headache—and the rash.

 

And if Blair were around when he got back in, he’d feel better in no time.

 

Jim wondered if Blair had been worried about him, and if something had gone wrong at the SGC.

 

He stifled his worry and followed Warren back to the gate. Warren set a fast pace, and Jim appreciated it. Exercise helped; Blair said it was because of the endorphins, and Jim couldn’t argue with that. Adrenalin, endorphins, it didn’t matter. There were things that helped Jim get a handle on his senses, and things that set him off, and Jim knew to embrace the former and avoid the latter.

 

They got through the gate, and Hammond was waiting for them. “I’m very sorry it took so long to bring you home, Major Warren. Teal’c was trapped in the buffer, and we couldn’t risk anyone dialing in,” he explained.

 

“No problem,” Warren replied. “We were fine, General.”

 

“Get checked out,” Hammond ordered, “then we’ll debrief further.”

 

Jim was halfway through the post-mission medical when Blair swung himself into the infirmary, treating Jim to a relieved smile. He hung back until the medic had turned his attention to Yi. “Hey, you okay?” Blair asked.

 

Jim shrugged. “I’m better now. How’s Teal’c?”

 

Blair shook his head in disbelief. “He’s fine, but it was wild, man,” he began, and launched into a rundown of the last couple of days. “And that guy, Dr. McKay, rumor has it he’s being transferred to Siberia to help the Russians. Remind me not to get on Colonel O’Neill’s bad side.”

 

“If you hadn’t already figured that out, there’s no hope for you,” Jim teased. “Look, I’ve got to go debrief.

 

Blair nodded. “After you’re done, swing by my office. I’ve got something to show you.”

 

The debriefing was quick and routine. At least SG-5’s mission had gone off without a hitch, doing recon and setting up a listening post to gauge Goa’uld activity on the planet. Hammond explained that he’d made the call to not have them gate back via the Russian gate because their dial-in time had been so close to the deadline, and Jim appreciated that he hadn’t been delayed further on his trip home.

 

And when Hammond glanced at Jim as he said as much, Jim figured he was part of the reason why Hammond had made the call. Jim appreciated it, and he tried not to let on how much his head ached, or how much his skin itched, not wanting to risk a stay in the infirmary, even though he’d cleared Medical.

 

There was nothing Fraiser could do for him anyway.

 

“You all have the next three days off,” General Hammond said at the end. “Enjoy.”

 

Jim had mixed feelings about the time off, but he’d have to make the best of it. Maybe he’d go up to the mountains, find a quiet spot, and just get away from everything for a while.

 

If Blair weren’t on crutches, Jim would have suggested that they go camping, but that wouldn’t be feasible for at least another couple of weeks.

 

And while he could have asked Sam, Jim wanted—no, _needed_ —to spend some time with Blair.

 

He stepped on the elevator to go to Blair’s office when he heard his name being called, and he held the door open for Sam. When the doors closed, Jim couldn’t help reaching for her, pulling her into a brief, hard hug.

 

She held on tightly for a moment. “Hello to you, too.”

 

“Blair said you were brilliant,” Jim said, releasing her before the doors could open. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to see it.”

 

Sam grinned mischievously. “It’s probably for the best. McKay kept trying to hit on me.”

 

Jim raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t rearrange his face?”

 

She shrugged. “Trust me, I thought about it once or twice. How are you?”

 

“Ready to head home,” he admitted. “I was just going to stop by Blair’s office.” Jim hesitated. “I’ve got the next three days off. I should do a few things around the house, but do you want to go for a drive?”

 

Sam smiled warmly. “I’d like that. I’ve got a couple of days before we have our next mission scheduled.”

 

“I’ll call you,” Jim promised.

 

Blair was waiting for him in his small, cramped office, and he said, “You’d better shut the door, Jim.”

 

Jim did so with a feeling of trepidation. “What’s up, Chief?”

 

Blair pushed a thick, plastic binder across the desk towards him. “That’s my dissertation.”

 

Jim blinked at it. “You finished it?”

 

“Yesterday,” Blair said. “I was so close that I couldn’t stop working on it, even with all the excitement around here. I thought you might want to read it before I gave it to anybody else.”

 

Jim stared at it, feeling a sense of déjà vu. Granted, he hadn’t been the first to read it last time, but it had caused them so much trouble, so much strife. The dissertation—this stack of paper—had nearly caused an irreparable breach in their friendship. He’d been so scared, so freaked out about having his life spelled out in black and white, his secrets laid bare, that he’d lashed out. He looked at it now and wanted to laugh, because there were much worse things to fear.

 

He’d thought the media circus that followed the leak had been hell— _that_ Jim hadn’t had a clue, not one _fucking_ clue—what hell was.

 

“No,” he said quietly.

 

Blair stared at him in surprise. “You don’t want to read it?”

 

“No,” Jim repeated and shoved it back across the desk. “I trust you.”

 

With some amusement, Jim watched as Blair stared at him, apparently rendered speechless.

 

“I—” Blair cleared his throat and tried again. “That means a lot,” he finally said hoarsely.

 

“Whatever you put in that thing,” Jim said, pointing at it. “It doesn’t matter to me. You and me, we’re solid.”

 

Blair nodded, still looking completely nonplussed. “Yeah, we are. I’ll, uh, get it sent in, and then I guess I’ll set up a date to defend it.”

 

“Good,” Jim said with a smile. “Are you ready to go home? I’ve got the next three days off.”

 

Blair grinned at him. “Yeah, sounds great.”

 

~~~~~

 

Blair hated that the crutches had made it incredibly difficult to help Jim out on the multitude of home improvement projects that needed to be done. He did what he could, of course, mostly by nailing down and staining the molding that ran along the floorboards.

 

In spite of how busy the last couple of months had been, they—well, mostly Jim—had managed to pull up the carpets upstairs and in the basement. They’d had wooden floors installed on the second floor, and Jim had put parquet flooring in the basement himself.

 

Blair contented himself with sitting on the floor with his leg outstretched, painstakingly staining the molding along the floor and then taping and painting while Jim rolled on coats of paint and cut in near the ceiling, wearing a respirator at Blair’s insistence.

 

Jim went for a long drive with Sam the second day he had off, but she came back to the house with him afterward and helped them paint that evening.

 

Blair watched them curiously as they worked side by side. He expected to feel like a third wheel, but Sam stayed close to Blair, her hands steadier than Jim’s in this context, painting near the ceiling and in the corners of what would be their office, while Jim took the roller to the master bedroom.

 

“Can I ask you a question?” Sam said, while she focused on painting in the corner.

 

Blair scooted himself along the floor and began painting another swathe. “Sure, you can ask.”

 

“When Jim has a zone, how do you get him out of it?” Sam asked.

 

Blair frowned. “I don’t know. I mean, I usually just yell at him, or wait for him to come around. He always has in the past.”

 

Sam didn’t reply, industriously working on her corner.

 

“Has something happened?” Blair asked.

 

“No, of course not,” Sam said quickly, too quickly really, but Blair wouldn’t invade Jim’s privacy by pressing for information not offered. “I just want to be prepared if it does.”

 

Blair focused on getting the paint spread evenly in the corner. “I’ll be honest with you. I have no idea why Jim responds to me and doesn’t respond to others. I don’t know why I can pull him out of zones, or why he can control his sense better when I’m around, but everything I’ve seen says that it’s true. Jim does fine on his own, but he seems to do better when I’m there.”

 

Sam focused on her brushwork for a minute, and then she said, “Maybe there’s something about you, too.”

 

“I hope not,” Blair admitted.

 

Sam stopped her painting to stare at him. “What? Why?”

 

“Because that means if something happens to me, Jim’s going to have an even harder time,” Blair replied earnestly.

 

Sam looked at him for a long moment, and then she said, “I can’t do what you do, Blair. I wish I could. But if it means anything, I’ll do whatever I can for Jim.”

 

Blair swallowed. “What? You’re not telling me that nothing will happen, and I’m worrying for no reason?”

 

Sam gave his cast a pointed look. “I think you know better than that. You have to; you were a cop before. I’ve lost—” She stopped and took a breath. “I won’t do that.”

 

The worst part, Blair thought, was that he liked her. She was exactly the sort of woman he would have picked out for Jim had he been given the choice. Sam was smart, tough, and levelheaded, and they made a hell of a couple.

 

And Blair couldn’t help but feel just a little bit jealous—that Jim had found someone, that Jim might move on and not need Blair anymore, that he might leave Blair behind.

 

At the same time, Blair couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.

 

Really, he just wanted Jim to be _happy_.

 

“Thank you,” Blair replies. “For not lying to me. And for the other thing.”

 

“Just don’t let anything happen to yourself,” Sam replied. “Jim needs you, and I’m not sure I’m an acceptable substitute.” She stepped down from the ladder she’d been using. “Looks like I’m done in here. I’ll let Jim know.”

 

Blair watched her go, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something big. That feeling didn’t fade when they ordered sandwiches that night, and Sam left soon after.

 

He didn’t stick around to see their farewell, but there was something bugging him about the whole thing—about their conversation, about her relationship with Jim, that was just rubbing him the wrong way.

 

And Blair didn’t think it was jealousy on his part.

 

“She could have stayed the night,” Blair said the next morning, wondering if Jim hadn’t asked her to stay because of him.

 

Jim shook his head. “She had somewhere to be this morning.”

 

“I don’t mind having her here,” Blair insisted. “If you guys are happy together—”

 

“Blair.” There was a flat quality to Jim’s voice, and his face was expressionless. “Let it go.”

 

Blair nodded. “Sure, but I’m just saying. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have her stay the night.”

 

Jim shrugged. “I’ll keep it in mind.” He took a sip of coffee. “Think I might go for a drive today, if that’s okay.”

 

“Whatever you want,” Blair said. “You want some company?”

 

Jim hesitated. “I thought I might hike.”

 

“I’ll bring a blanket and read for a while,” Blair suggested.

 

Jim grinned at him. “Yeah, that sounds about perfect, Chief.”

 

~~~~~

 

Sam had to admit that the rumors had died down since she had started dating Jim, although there was a part of her that felt like their relationship was something of a sham.

 

She liked him, and she was attracted to him, and she knew Jim was attracted to her, but Sam already knew that their relationship would wind up being friends with the occasional something on the side.

 

On the other hand, they _were_ friends, and Jim knew about her job, and he was an undemanding boyfriend who completely understood the bonds she shared with her team. Sam could do a lot worse, and she’d been taking care of her own needs for a long time now.

 

Her Magic Wand couldn’t take her out to dinner, and Jim could, and Sam couldn’t exactly complain.

 

“Blair’s getting his cast off tomorrow,” Jim said, sitting on a stool in her lab. “And I’ve got a sparring session with Teal’c this afternoon. You want to get dinner tonight?”

 

Sam glanced at him. “You have something in mind?”

 

“I’m hoping the workout will tire me out enough,” Jim said.

 

Sam smiled. “Then maybe we should order in.”

 

“Not a bad idea,” Jim replied. “If you’re not busy.”

 

“I’ve got a mission tomorrow, but we’re not leaving until the afternoon,” Sam said. “We’ll probably be gone a few days.”

 

Jim hopped off the stool and gave her a brief, chaste kiss. “I’ll see you in a few hours, then. I’ve got a briefing to get to.”

 

Sam probably would have worked straight through lunch, but Daniel popped his head in. “You want to get something to eat?” he asked.

 

“I guess I probably should,” Sam said, pushing back from her computer and rubbing her eyes.

 

“Are you going to watch Jim and Teal’c spar today?” Daniel asked.

 

Sam frowned. “Why would I?”

 

“It’s turned into quite the spectacle,” Daniel replied as they headed for the cafeteria. “I’m not sure how people know when it’s happening, but they always do.”

 

Sam frowned, wondering how Jim felt about being watched like that. “I’d heard the rumors, but you know how the grapevine works. I thought maybe it was an exaggeration.”

 

“Everybody knows about what happened with the Goa’uld that attacked the mining operation, and they want to see Jim in action,” Daniel replied. “You’d understand if you’d seen Jim with Teal’c.”

 

Sam’s curiosity was piqued, and she thought she’d have to watch now.

 

She went to the gym prior to when Jim was due to spar with Teal’c, timing it so she’d finish up her run right when the sparring session started.

 

Daniel had been right. People from the base began filtering in just as Sam was starting her cool down. They all found something to do—free weights, another treadmill or one of the bikes, stretching carefully around the edges of the room.

 

Sam was still walking when Jim entered, and he waved when he spotted her. He was dressed in track pants and a tank top, and he took off his tennis shoes when he reached the edge of the mat and began to stretch.

 

Sam could feel the stillness settle over the room as Teal’c entered, and Jim straightened in one fluid motion and grabbed two of the practice staffs, even though his back had been to the door. It was almost as though Jim had eyes in the back of his head.

 

Jim tossed the staff at Teal’c without really looking, and Teal’c caught it easily. They inclined their heads, and then Jim struck.

 

Sam stopped the treadmill just so she could watch with her full attention, because she was beginning to understand why so many people had made their way to the gym.

 

She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone match Teal’c blow for blow, but Jim did, and there was the sound of wood on wood, and occasionally on flesh.

 

The few who sparred with Teal’c usually lasted half an hour, at the most, but Jim kept going, even as his shirt darkened with sweat, and his skin glistened.

 

“Impressive, huh?” Daniel asked, coming up behind her.

 

“You could say that,” Sam replied quietly. “I’ve never seen…”

 

Daniel was quiet for a moment. “Blair keeps saying that Jim is special.”

 

“He is,” Sam said immediately.

 

Jim and Teal’c’s staffs clashed and held, and they stopped, and then broke apart, saluting each other.

 

Sam ducked out of the gym, wondering how it was that she could be so attracted to someone, and so awed by him, and yet have him be nearly completely out of reach.

 

It seemed she had impressively bad luck with men.

 

She was getting dressed in her street clothes when she heard voices. “How does Major Carter get all the luck?” someone asked.

 

They sounded young, and Sam suspected they were some of the newer recruits. She thought about alerting them to her presence, but stayed silent, curious as to whet they would say.

 

There was laughter, and someone said, “Talk about a beefcake! Still, I’ve heard Major Ellison is a little jumpy.”

 

“Wouldn’t you be if you could hear a fly buzzing a hundred feet away?” someone else asked. “Bet he’s great in the sack, though. I’ve heard he can practically read minds.”

 

Sam winced, glad that no one had any idea what someone like Jim went through. Gossip around the base was bad enough already.

 

“Do you think the rumors are true about his partner?”

 

“Who? Sandburg? No way,” a third voice replied. “He has a date tonight with one of the nurses. Apparently, they really hit it off. I’ve heard he’s a player.”

 

There was a snort. “He hasn’t gotten much action around the SGC.”

 

“He’s been working on his dissertation,” came the reply. “Plus, a cast is a pain in the ass in bed, let me tell you.”

 

“I’d hit that,” the first woman said. “I mean, sure, Major Ellison is a hunk, but have you seen Sandburg’s hair? I just want to run my hands through those curls.”

 

“Maybe if the nurse doesn’t work out, he’ll let you take a turn,” someone said, amid gales of laughter.

 

Sam stayed very quiet as they headed for the locker, and then exited as quietly as possible.

 

Even if things remained difficult, and Jim never got his senses fully under control, even if they never had a long-term relationship beyond friends with the occasional side benefit, Sam knew she’d keep up the charade for as long as Jim wanted.

 

Right now, the rumor mill was working in their favor. Sam knew she couldn’t let that change.

 

~~~~~

 

“You know you don’t have to hold my hand, Jim,” Blair said. “I’m getting the cast off. I’m not getting my leg amputated.”

 

Jim shrugged. “Sam had a mission, and I don’t. So, I’m here. Deal with it. When is your defense?”

 

“Next week,” Blair replied and hissed as the saw started up. “I hate that sound.”

 

The sound set Jim’s teeth on edge, too, but he dialed down his hearing and focused on Blair’s heartbeat as best he could. He tried not to think about how much easier it was to do that with Blair around.

 

“How many people are going to be at your defense?” Jim asked in a bid to distract him.

 

Blair winced. “Four or five? I’m not really sure. I think Daniel’s arranging it.”

 

“How’s learning Ancient going?” Jim asked.

 

“Slowly,” Blair replied. “I’m dividing my attention between that and Goa’uld. And ancient Egyptian. All of them seem to be much in demand around here.”

 

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Learning three languages at once?”

 

“I’ve had a lot of time on my hands,” Blair replied, and then he grimaced. “Oh, God, that smell.”

 

“Old cast,” the nurse replied, winking at Blair. “I won’t hold it against you.”

 

Jim waited until she’d carted off the cast and informed them that the doctor would be along shortly. “I see you have a date.”

 

“We’ll see,” Blair said dismissively. “She’s nice, though.”

 

Dr. Fraiser approached. “Well, Blair, how are we doing?”

 

“You tell me,” Blair replied.

 

Fraiser rotated Blair’s foot carefully. “So far so good. Why don’t you try walking on it?”

 

Jim hovered nearby—and he wouldn’t pretend he was doing anything else—as Blair took a cautious step. When it looked like he was going down, Jim held out an arm and Blair clutched at him.

 

“I’m okay,” Blair insisted as he hobbled along. “It doesn’t feel great, but I’ve had worse.”

 

“You’ll need some physical therapy, but I expect to certify you ready for active duty in a few weeks on the outside,” Fraiser replied. “Congratulations, Jim. It looks like you have your partner back.”

 

“Hallelujah,” Jim replied with a smile. “Can I spring him?”

 

“Set up your PT appointments before you leave,” Fraiser replied. “And take your painkillers when you need them.”

 

Blair winced. “Oh, I don’t think there’s any concern about that.”

 

Fraiser laughed. “You don’t know my usual clientele, then. Jim, I know I don’t have to tell you to look after him.”

 

“Not at all,” Jim replied. “Thanks, doc.”

 

Fraiser flashed him a smile. “Just going my job. I’ll see you both later.”

 

“You set up your PT, and I’ll fill your prescriptions,” Jim replied.

 

The dispensary had Jim on file as Blair’s roommate, so they didn’t quibble about filling Blair’s prescription for him. “Take care of Mr. Sandburg,” the pharmacist said.

 

“That’s the plan,” Jim replied. “Thanks.”

 

Blair was waiting for him. “So, four weeks, and I’m all yours again, Big Guy.”

 

Jim grinned. “Good. I wouldn’t have wanted you to get too rusty.”

 

“Hey, I’ve been putting my time in on the range,” Blair protested. “I’ll show you rusty. When do you think they’ll put us out in the field again?”

 

Jim shrugged. “I don’t know. Marcos will be coming back soon, so they’ll have to do something with me, but you won’t be cleared yet.”

 

“I have to say, it will be good to put the dissertation behind me, and start the next chapter,” Blair said. “I feel like we’ve been in a holding pattern the last few months.”

 

“We both had some things to work out,” Jim replied quietly. “And maybe it was for the best, Chief. At least this way, we know I can operate in the field without you, even though I’d rather not.”

 

Blair glanced at him. “Same here, Jim.”

 

“Come on,” Jim said. “Let’s go home.”

 

And he had to admit, he liked the sound of that.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack had to admit that human behavior routinely amused him, and this occasion was no different. The base gym, which was usually well populated anyway, tended to fill up when Teal’c and Ellison sparred, although everyone present pretended not to be watching them.

 

Teal’c had barely worked up a sweat, but Ellison’s t-shirt was dark with moisture, although he met Teal’c blow for blow. At one point, Ellison parried a blow from Teal’c, ducked low in an attempt to sweep Teal’c’s legs out from under him, and at the last moment changed tacks and hit Teal’c in the side.

 

Teal’c took a step back, and while his expression barely changed, Jack could see approval in his eyes. He spoke briefly in Goa’uld, and Ellison responded in the same language, inclining his head briefly, but never letting down his guard.

 

His caution was warranted, because Teal’c struck again without warning, and Jim just managed to bring up his staff in time to block the shot to his ribs. With that, they were off again, moving so quickly that Jack could barely follow their movements. Neither of them connected very often. Teal’c might be slightly faster and stronger, but Ellison seemed to anticipate his every move, and seemingly by mutual agreement, the bout ended, and they both stepped back.

 

They bowed at the same time. “Someday, I will introduce you to my master, Bra’tac,” Teal’c said. “He knows more than I do.”

 

“Then I look forward to meeting him,” Ellison replied, his expression serene, his stance relaxed. “Thank you, Teal’c.”

 

Sandburg limped forward from the crowd around the edges of the gym. “Hey, guys, that was awesome.”

 

His unbridled enthusiasm called an answering grin from Ellison. “Maybe you ought to take lessons, Chief.”

 

Sandburg looked dubious. “No offense, but I don’t think it’s for me. Sorry, Teal’c.”

 

“Not everyone is called to be a warrior, Blair Sandburg,” Teal’c replied gravely.

 

“Ellison, I need to talk to you,” Jack called.

 

“Catch you a little later, Blair,” Ellison said, and the crowd in the gym began to clear out some. Jack led the way out of the gym, away from prying eyes.

 

“How’s SG-5 working out for you?” Jack asked conversationally as they headed down the hallway toward the locker room.

 

Ellison glanced at him cautiously. “Just fine, sir. Have you heard anything different?”

 

“Major Warren has been very happy with you,” Jack assured him. “But Captain Marcos is back next week, and Sandburg is going to be off the disabled list soon.”

 

Ellison nodded. “Yes, sir.”

 

“We’re waiting for the right opening,” Jack explained. “The decision has been made to have you lead your own team, with varied mission parameters. Sandburg can handle himself in a firefight?”

 

Ellison gave a tight nod. “And he can talk anybody into anything.”

 

“That I’ve seen,” Jack replied with a smile. “For now, until we’ve got a spot for both of you, I’d like you to run some more training ops with new candidates.”

 

Ellison’s mouth tilted up slightly. “Is this a punishment, sir?”

 

“You did such a good job, call it the price of being competent,” Jack replied. “That, and I figure you’ve proved your point.”

 

Ellison frowned. “What point would that be?”

 

“You can go out in the field without Sandburg, and you can handle yourself,” Jack said gently. “You can put the job before any personal discomfort, and while Fraiser might be right about you having some of the symptoms of PTSD, that’s not going to stop you either.”

 

Ellison’s expression went blank, and he rocked back slightly on his heels. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir.”

 

“No, I’m sure you don’t,” Jack agreed. “But you’re talking to an old soldier, Jim. I was held behind enemy lines.”

 

Ellison swallowed audibly. “I’m fine.”

 

“I don’t think I believe you,” Jack replied easily. “But I’m also well aware that sometimes the only cure for what ails you is work.”

 

Some of the tension left Ellison’s shoulders. “Thank you, sir.”

 

“You’re an excellent soldier, Major,” Jack replied. “We’ll put you back in the field as soon as we can, but right now, I need you here, and I think you need to be here.”

 

Ellison nodded. “I understand.”

 

“Go get cleaned up,” Jack ordered. “And enjoy your evening, Major. It’s good to have you on board.”

 

Ellison smiled briefly. “Thank you, Colonel.”

 

Jack headed back for his office, but made a detour by Carter’s office. “Hey,” he said.

 

She smiled. “Hi. What’s up?”

 

“Just thought I’d check in,” Jack replied.

 

Carter gave him a sharp look. “I’m okay.”

 

Jack nodded slowly. “And you and Ellison?”

 

Carter glanced away, and she smiled. Jack wondered if he was imagining things, or if she looked a little wistful. “We’re okay. We’re good.”

 

“That’s all I needed to know,” Jack replied. “I’m glad.”

 

Carter nodded. “Thanks.”

 

Jack felt like he ought to offer a little more. “He’s a good guy.”

 

“He is,” Carter agreed.

 

Jack looked at her and thought of everything he couldn’t have. “Okay,” he said. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

 

She nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

 

“You want to go out for a drink tonight?” he asked impulsively. “Team thing, nothing—well. You know.”

 

Carter nodded slowly. “I think I’d like that.”

 

“I’ll round up everybody else,” Jack said.

 

And he felt as though things might be okay.

 

~~~~~

 

Blair glanced up from his book in surprise as Jim came through the front door. He hadn’t expected Jim home that night since he’d been out with Sam, and he certainly hadn’t expected him to be home before nine. “What are you doing here?”

 

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Nice to see you, too, Chief,” he said sarcastically.

 

Blair winced, realizing that the question had come out more harshly than he’d intended. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

 

Jim retrieved a beer from the fridge and uncapped it. “I live here, remember?”

 

“I thought you had a hot date with Sam tonight,” Blair replied.

 

“We went to dinner,” Jim said, sitting down on the couch next to Blair. “And she has a mission early tomorrow.”

 

Blair nodded slowly, wondering if he was right about the picture he was starting to put together. “Yeah, but you have to work, too. You could have gone in with her.”

 

“I could have, but I decided to come home.” Jim stretched his legs out and sipped his beer, then rolled his shoulders. “It was a long day.”

 

Blair watched Jim, feeling a niggling worry nudging him. “Are you and Sam okay?”

 

Jim glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

 

“No reason,” Blair replied, doing some rapid mental calculations. “You guys are still seeing each other, right?”

 

Jim’s expression was unfathomable, giving away nothing. “I just saw her tonight, Einstein.”

 

“Yeah, but—” Blair hesitated, still wary of overstepping his bounds, or pushing Jim too far. “You never spend the night.”

 

Something flickered in Jim’s eyes. “Like I said, I live _here_.”

 

Worry caused Blair to press on. “You’ve been dating for months, Jim, and I can count the number of times you’ve slept over on one hand, and you’ve never asked her to stay here. I had assumed it wouldn’t be long before you told me you were thinking of moving in with her, or having her move in here.”

 

“The house is in both our names,” Jim pointed out. “That wouldn’t work all that well.”

 

“But that’s not it at all,” Blair forged on. “Come on, Jim. If there’s something wrong, you need to tell me. I’m friends with both of you, and I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth.”

 

“You regularly put your foot in your mouth,” Jim replied with a wry smile.

 

“Jim.”

 

Jim heaved a sigh, and then finished off his beer, pushing up off the couch. “Do you want one?”

 

“I want you to tell me what’s going on,” Blair insisted.

 

“And that is definitely going to require another drink on my part,” Jim replied. “So, do you?”

 

Blair’s stomach twisted. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

He took the bottle that Jim held out a minute later and watched as Jim settled himself on the chair, putting physical distance between them.

 

“Have you heard any of the rumors about Sam and O’Neill?” Jim asked.

 

Blair wanted to ask what that had to do with anything, but he knew Jim well enough to understand that he was approaching obliquely. “No, not really.”

 

“Rumors were flying about a year ago that they had developed an inappropriate attachment,” Jim said. “It never went anywhere, but that’s the kind of thing that could really hurt Carter’s career.”

 

“Okay,” Blair said, drawing out the word. “What does that have to do with you?”

 

Jim’s lips twisted into a tight, rueful smile. “There’ve been rumors about the two of us, too.”

 

Blair frowned. “So what? There were rumors about us at the PD.”

 

“You don’t get kicked off the force for being gay,” Jim pointed out. “At least, not officially, and Simon wasn’t going to lose his best team.”

 

“We’re not gay,” Blair said.

 

“And yet we were partners, and we’ve lived together for years,” Jim said. “We bought a house together. But when Sam and I started seeing each other, most of those rumors died down.”

 

Blair frowned. “You’re telling me that the only reason you’re dating is that you want to dispel the rumors?”

 

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Jim replied maddeningly, his expression going blank again. “We’re still going out.”

 

“But—” Blair stopped cold, finally putting two and two together. He’d seen Jim with Sam, and they were both affectionate, even if strictly professional while on the base. _That_ wasn’t a sham.

 

But in the three months they’d been dating seriously, Blair could only remember a couple of times that they’d spent the night together, and Jim didn’t have the best control these days. And then there was that conversation he’d had with Sam, when she’d said she couldn’t do what Blair did for Jim.

 

“Spikes or zones?” he asked, seeking confirmation.

 

Relief filled Jim’s eyes, and Blair suspected that he was grateful not to have to spell it out. “Both. She nearly called you when I zoned because it took her so long to pull me out.”

 

“Oh, man.” Blair felt a wave of sympathy. “Not at all?”

 

“Once, when I was still on an adrenalin high,” Jim admitted. “We’ve tried a few times now, and it just doesn’t work out unless I’m fresh from a mission.”

 

Blair could put the pieces together easily enough. Between Jim’s schedule and SG-1’s, the chances of the stars aligning and everything working perfectly—and both of them ready, willing, and able at the same time—that was probably going to happen once in a blue moon.

 

Blair rubbed his eyes. “What are you going to do?”

 

“What can I do?” Jim asked, sounding despondent. “Look, most days I don’t care. It’s all I can do just to keep from spiraling out of control, and I’m not—I can’t risk losing control.”

 

Blair’s mind was racing. “Maybe we could figure something out. We could—”

 

“No, Blair,” Jim said gently. “I’m okay. I have work I like, I have friends, and I have you.”

 

“Yeah, you do,” Blair insisted. “But Jim…” He swallowed. “So, you guys are going to keep doing whatever?”

 

Jim shrugged. “We like one another’s company, and neither of us are interested in dating someone else. When that changes, no hard feelings on either side.”

 

“You got someone else in mind?” Blair asked, teasing slightly.

 

Jim stared at him. “There isn’t anybody. There isn’t going to _be_ anybody. I can’t even hide the fact that I’m a Sentinel anymore, which means I can’t date anybody who isn’t with the SGC, and even then, there aren’t going to be a lot of women who would understand that I have no intention of not living with my best friend. Sam gets it. When she finds someone else, I’ll go back to being single.” He grinned. “With any luck, everyone will think she broke my heart, and no one will wonder why I’m not dating.”

 

“You deserve better than that, Jim,” Blair protested.

 

Jim shook his head. “I’ve got what I want.” He drained the last of his beer and rose. “Think I’m going to turn in, Chief. Good night.”

 

“’Night,” Blair said faintly. He’d been too busy over the last couple of months getting his dissertation in shape to think about dating, but he probably was in the same position as Jim.

 

Jim was always going to take priority, which meant that Blair had essentially given up on having a long-term permanent relationship.

 

Then again, he hadn’t been doing much dating at all over the last year and a half, not since his death, other than the occasional night out. He wasn’t looking for more than that, not anymore.

 

Blair wished he could find a solution to Jim’s problem, but he couldn’t think of anything. Jim might be able to control his senses better with Blair around, but that didn’t help him in this situation, and it wasn’t like Blair could be in the room while Jim and Sam were making love.

 

In truth, Blair didn’t think that even his presence would help, considering how tenuous Jim’s control remained.

 

With a groan of frustration, Blair shoved his book to one side. He probably should be prepping for his defense, but he had a couple of days, and he needed a break.

 

In less than a week, his life would change dramatically again. Assuming he successfully defended the diss, he’d be Dr. Blair Sandburg, and he’d soon be back out in the field, with Jim heading his own team.

 

Then again, he and Jim would be together, and that was the important thing. Blair was ready to have his partner back.

 

Blair wanted Jim to be happy, but maybe that was too much to ask; maybe they had to settle for Jim being content.

 

It felt like a hell of a let down, really.

 

Blair headed to bed, and in spite of his whirling thoughts, he dropped off right away. When he woke, it was still dark, and he couldn’t figure out _what_ had woken him at first. He saw a shadowy presence standing in the doorway, and he called, “Jim?”

 

“Sorry to wake you,” Jim said softly. “Go back to sleep.”

 

Blair lay there, blinking sleepily, and realized that Jim hadn’t moved. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah, I just needed…” he trailed off.

 

Blair recognized that tone of voice. Jim always sounded lost after a really bad nightmare, and he never wanted to talk about it.

 

But sometimes he would take Blair’s comfort.

 

“Come on,” Blair invited, patting the bed.

 

It was a mark of how badly shaken Jim was, because he stretched out next to Blair and took a deep breath. Blair reached out and rested his hand on Jim’s chest. “Deep breath,” Blair said. “Just take it easy, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Jim covered Blair’s hand with his own. “I’m sorry,” he said.

 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Blair replied, knowing that Jim was apologizing for his weakness. “Just go to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

 

And maybe it wasn’t what a lot of people would think was normal, but given everything that had happened, he thought they were probably doing okay.

 

Even if Jim couldn’t be truly happy, he seemed happy to be with Blair. Jim might be carrying the scars of his experiences, but at least Blair could help him carry the burden.


End file.
